Taken by the Wind
by 10Stargazer01
Summary: A sequel. Cordelia and Misty have finally found their place with each other, but have to find a way to exist in the real world, something Misty has never done before. All the while, Marie Laveau still has not forgiven the Goode's for Delphine's horrors; now she's out for blood and the voodoo powers she possesses are the other side to the coin of Misty's abilities.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First of all I should point out to any newcomer that this is a SEQUEL (to Running in the Shadows) – I won't tell you what to do, merely point out that this story will not have a whole lot of coherence without the first one. To old readers, welcome back! I'm very honored that you want to keep I hope you will enjoy this just as much. I will try to keep a reasonable pace with the posting, aiming for once a week, but I can't promise that it'll stay that way throughout the whole thing.**

 **Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the known characters or settings. Still wish I did.**

* * *

 **Part 1**

" **If I hope and if I pray, it might work out someday"**

 **\- Seven Wonders, Fleetwood Mac**

It was a mess of blood and stern voices and figures rushing by. Her fingers were almost crushed by Cordelia's hand, gripping them so tight. Cordelia's whole body shook and it transferred through that touch into Misty. There was a smell, Misty could never quite put her finger on, sterile as hospitals always were, but with an organic taste, which lingered with her. Neither of them said a word. Cordelia's panting breaths were returning to normal, but no words came over her lips. They were both caught in a limbo, waiting, watching the scene. The figures, all covered in scrubs and concentrated faces and Cordelia's blood, gathered in one end of the room, like a shield, mumbling and gesturing with instruments.

And then, a moment of gasping silence.

Until the cry.

It was the tiniest, most fragile, infant sound Misty had ever heard. Yet it was so full of life. It spoke to her in the most direct way, hit her in the chest and clenched an infant fist around her heart. But she didn't want it to let go. Never. This fist didn't hurt, it only made her feel giddy.

"The baby's healthy, Delia, I can feel it. You did it."

Cordelia closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She smiled through the exhaustion and gave Misty's hand a gentler squeeze. Misty lifted Cordelia's hand up and kissed it.

"You did good, baby."

Cordelia opened her eyes again and looked up at Misty. Her face was glimmering with sweat, her hairline wet and her body the picture of bone-deep exhaustion, but her eyes shone with life. The same as that cry, which still danced around the room, only now subsiding to a whimper.

"I wasn't scared, not one bit. Because I knew that if anything went wrong, you were there to fix us."

Misty smiled at her and opened her mouth to speak, when one of the nurses emerged from the shield of scrubs. It was Emily, a familiar face from their frequent hospital visits and today her face shone even more than usual. The little cry followed her.

"Are you ready to meet your baby?" Both women looked at her, but only briefly, because the tiny creature in her arms stole their attention right away. "He's a healthy baby boy."

Emily stepped close to the bed and Misty moved to give her space, so she could hand Cordelia her newborn son. She placed him in Cordelia's waiting embrace, against her naked skin and Cordelia stared at the little boy as if she had never seen anything quite so miraculous. Misty squeezed her shoulder, for a moment just as mesmerized. Then she bent down and tapped at the boy's pink cheek with her finger. The little boy cooed and his fingers twitched.

"Hey, baby boy", she said.

Cordelia's chest heaved as she tried to stifle her crying. Tears rolled out of her eyes and landed softly on the baby's stomach. Then the faintest chuckle came out of her mouth and she looked up to meet Misty's gaze.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy", she said. The conviction with which she said it and the light in her eyes made Misty feel like her heart was too big for her chest. It beat out of rhythm, it swelled inside her body. Only the infant fist kept it in place, as she bent down and kissed Cordelia.

"I love you", she whispered into her face. She whispered, because she wanted nothing to disturb this moment, not even the sound of a declaration of love. Because it wasn't needed. Cordelia finally understood, finally embraced it and it was with a convincing smile that she whispered it back.

Somewhere in the periphery, the midwife and the rest of the nurses were busy cleaning up. The amount of blood scared Misty a little, but she took comfort in the fact that she could sense no hurt in Cordelia. She was the farthest from injury she had ever been.

The only one not moving was Emily and Misty looked up to see if she wanted something. Cordelia was too preoccupied to notice anything beyond the wrinkled little wonder in her arms.

Emily started when she realized Misty was looking at her. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You two are just my favorites. Um, so do we have a name for your boy yet?"

Cordelia looked up and Misty caught her eye, extended an silent question. Cordelia nodded and looked down again. She was too much in awe to speak.

Misty looked up at Emily and answered: "His name is Cage." Misty couldn't help but smile with pride, because Cordelia had let her decide this.

Emily gave them both a warm smile and looked at the boy. "Welcome to the world, Cage", she said. "This is where the fun begins."

O0O

The first year passed by them like a blink of an eye. Maybe it was that she perceived everything so vividly now without the antidepressants, that everything was sharper, faster, experienced quicker. Her little boy grew from the tiny infant barely the length of her arm to the baby, sitting on her hip whenever she needed her hand free. Just the simple notion of this baby's weight on her body made her feel a happiness she could barely contain in her chest. His chubby hands pulling her hair still sometimes made her cry. Cordelia thought to herself that he would grow up with such a distorted perception of tears, because she was always so happy when he saw her cry.

Only one thing in the world came close to the joy of having Cage with her and that was watching Misty with him. There was a childishness still very much alive in her soul, one that Cordelia had lost long ago. Misty could play peekaboo with the baby for an hour straight, she could dance around with him in her arms, while singing along to Stevie Nicks until her own laughter outmatched his and she never tired. She could chase him around on her knees when he learned to crawl, growling like a playful animal and she did it with a seemingly endless resource of energy. All this while still waking up along with Cordelia herself every time Cage cried at night. Sometimes she even pushed Cordelia back in bed and announced she would get him. And she would cradle him in her arms like her own. The sight made Cordelia's heart beat with the purest of love.

"I can't begin to tell you how happy it makes me that you care so much for Cage", she told Misty one of such nights. "I could never ask that of you."

Misty handed her the baby so she could feed him and said: "You didn't have to. He's a tiny boy version of you, how could I not love him?"

And he really was. He had a tentative nature, which had become clear even at this young age. He was careful with his curiosity, he explored at his own pace. Physically, he was just as similar. There were traits of his father in his face, but most of it was Cordelia. His blonde hair, his nose and cheekbones. His eyes. Cordelia didn't think she could possibly love her perfect little boy more than she already did, but whenever she looked at that fraction of brown in his left and otherwise blue eye, she found that she did.

Something else she could not have foreseen was the peace Cage brought to the house. Her mother had decided to settle down in New Orleans and whether it was because of the breakdown, the baby or Fiona's drug-dealing boyfriend, Cordelia didn't know. All she knew was that so long as she didn't bring up the drug business too often, they coexisted peacefully in a way they hadn't before. They were all there, the people from her childhood: Fiona, Misty and Spalding, and in some ways it was a strange sense of déjà vu. Like Spalding lurking in the corners, only to appear and cast some very acidic glances whenever Cometh visited, and Fiona bossing everyone around. Only the balance had somewhat shifted. The tone had changed. Everybody centered around the baby, Cordelia's baby, and looking at her mother handling the infant, she realized that there was still traces of mothering left in Fiona. And they even extended to Cordelia at times. Cordelia couldn't help picturing herself in the arms of a younger version of Fiona. Yet again, there was no father in the room, but Cordelia wasn't troubled. She had Misty.

When the first year had passed, Cordelia went back to work part time. The looks she received in the teacher's lounge now didn't go unnoticed. She hadn't been to work since the black hole after Hank died and came back. Misty came back to being her usual self mere days after nearly dying, but Cordelia took another month. She made a deal with the school to take the year off, since the kids were settling in well with the new teacher, and lengthen her maternity leave. If it wasn't for Fiona there might not have been a job to get back to, and she didn't let Cordelia forget it. But Cordelia only smiled and thanked her. She wanted the kids back.

The looks she could easily dismiss by now, but what sometimes got under her skin was the talk. Since her colleagues last saw her, she had had a mental breakdown, divorced her husband and gotten openly involved in a romantic relationship with another woman. No one said anything rude to her face, but the whispers were quick to connect the three major events and some even said the first caused the two others. Misty always told her not to care what people thought or said, but it sometimes made Cordelia wish she didn't live in the south. She didn't think colleagues would be as quick to assume, if she still lived in Boston.

Now Cordelia made her way to the bar, the baby secure on her hip. She didn't like the place much, but she knew Misty had a special connection to it, so she didn't object. She had spent a year or so of her life cleaning this place in exchange for a place to sleep after she had left her hometown for good. The bar manager had been the faintest hint of a father figure for a year of her teenage life. The less romantic reason was that this was one of the only places Misty could get a job that suited her free spirit and lack of education.

Cordelia had never imagined a day where she would visit Misty at work. Perhaps it was that she had never dared think that long into the future, had never dared imagine one for them. Suddenly they were living it and it included Misty working, because with Hank's paycheck gone and Cordelia only working part time, they needed the money.

Cage cooed and sucked on her sleeve when she stopped at the door. She braced herself and opened. Tried to spot Misty through the haze of smoke in there. Music poured from the jukebox in the corner and drowned any talk there might have been. It was only six o'clock, Misty's early day at work, but a few of her customers were already at the bottom of their beers. There weren't many though and she found Misty quickly, in the process of serving another beer to Jackson, someone Cordelia believed she had become friendly with.

Cordelia took a moment to watch her. Misty never wore jeans at home, always her dresses, but at work she did. That and a jeans vest. Her wild hair was tied up in a loose knot and she had wrapped a bandana around her head. The look suited her, displayed her free spirited nature, but kept it contained somehow. The perfect blend for a work situation. And she looked gorgeous, Cordelia wouldn't deny that.

Finally, Misty saw her and a wide grin divided her lips. She held up a finger to mimic 'one second', poured the rest of the beer and then went around the counter, laughing at whatever Jackson had just said.

"Hey", she greeted and bent down for a kiss. Misty never cared about public display and Cordelia never had the heart to stop her. Cage greeted her with his infant laugh, the high pitched one that only babies can make. "Hey there, pup", she said and tickled him until he withered in Cordelia's arms. Finally, she looked up at Cordelia again with disbelief.

"Darlin', what're you doing, bringin' him here? I thought you didn't want the smoke on him."

"That's why I'm staying out here. I'm just taking a stroll in the city and thought I'd say hi. I know you're rarely busy at this time of day."

Misty gave her a knowing look. "Is it 'cause Cometh's at home?"

It was no use trying to hide it. Misty had always been able to read her like that. Cordelia caved and nodded. "I don't want him around Cage. I accept that he makes my mother happy, but I think he's bad influence."

"He did get Fiona clean, you know. He's not that bad. 'Sides, Cage's barely two, he ain't 'bout to go dealin'." She said the last in a whisper, but Cordelia still shushed her.

"Don't say that kind of thing. And I still don't like it. I don't want Cage growing up with him as the only example of what a man looks like."

Misty was about to open her mouth when someone called her name from the inside. The voice was deep and stern, laced with impatience. Misty sent Cordelia an apologetic smile. "That's my boss. Gotta go, baby. See you at home."

"Sure. Wake me when you come in, okay?"

"I don't wanna wake you, you need the sleep."

"Wake me anyway", Cordelia insisted and pressed a soft kiss to Misty's lips before she could object.

O0O

The summer just before Cage turned three, Misty took him to the swamp for the first time. It had taken months to ease Cordelia's mind about it. Misty didn't rush it, even though she ached to reunite her two lives again, because she knew how cautious Cordelia was with everything, especially when it came to Cage. And Misty hadn't forgotten how scared she had been of the gators herself.

"Misty, are you really sure this is a good idea?" She asked again as Misty was headed out the door with a stroller and the sling to carry Cage in, in case the ground became too uneven for the stroller. Her worry was somewhat understandable to Misty and so she tried not to roll her eyes.

"I was only twice his age when I lived out there, Delia. I know the swamp like the inside of my hand. He's safe with me."

"I know that, but-"

Misty raised an eyebrow. "Don't you trust me?" Cordelia sighed and caved.

"Yes, of course I trust you. It's Nick and the rest of the pack I'm a little unsure about."

"I promise I won't go by the river. But Nick ain't no trouble and I want him to know Cage, so he can always protect him. Just like he did with me." Misty kissed her goodbye, when Cordelia's face finally softened and went for the woods. She longed to be surrounded by the warm embrace of nature again. Her trips had become rarer ever since she had to start working. Being told where to be at what time had never suited her and she felt caged most of the time. But out here no one told her that she had fifteen minutes left of her shift. Out here it was as if time didn't exist. Animals never counted the clock and she longed to be like that again.

"You ain't afraid of my friends, are you, baby boy? No, 'course not. You'll like it just fine and then your mommy can get some sleep for once, right?" She tickled the palm of his hand as she spoke to him, her voice several octaves higher than usual. She used to roll her eyes and tease Cordelia whenever she started taking baby to Cage, and she downright dropped her jaw the one time she caught Fiona doing it. She hadn't even realized that over time it had rubbed off on her as well, and now baby was the common tongue of the house. But she loved the blonde little miracle, she now carried close to her chest, as she made her way through the forest. He was a quiet boy, but a ray of sunshine even so. He looked like Cordelia when he smiled; his mouth curved the exact same way. Misty could spend hours just watching Cordelia watch her son and mimic that smile. There was a joy in Cordelia, a levity Misty hadn't seen since their childhood.

Cage pointed and uttered a joyful squeal. He hadn't made words yet, but sometimes it sounded close. He would point at something and make the blurry shape of a word as if he intended it to mean something. Misty had a secret quest to make 'gator' his first word, just to see the look on the rest of their faces.

Nick lay by her garden as she reached the shack. He so rarely stayed by the river these days. The old gators had gone vicious over the past winter. The frustration from lack of food had lingered, made them hung over with agitation even halfway into the summer. Even Misty didn't dare venture down their path when they were like this, she knew not to from past experiences of spending two whole days in a tree, because they thought her a threat or a treat. Cage couldn't stay away from his mama that long.

"Hey Nick", she said and the alligator lifted, turned and laid down, facing her. "I have someone I'd like you to meet. This is Cage, Cordelia's son. I guess he's kinda mine too, you know, since he's got no dad. He's our family too, okay?" Nick remained immobile. Misty just smiled at him and reversed the introduction for Cage. He cooed and stretched out his hand to point at the alligator.

"Yeah, that's Nick, pup. Found him when he was just as tiny as you. We're just gonna keep him company for a bit, show mommy there ain't no reason to be scared."

Misty unleashed him from the sling, but kept a firm hand at the rim of his pants so he didn't crawl in the wrong direction. He stayed put and took to pulling grass up from the earth. Misty closed her eyes to the sun and the sounds of her home echoed deep within her soul. The summer breeze sang to her and cleansed her from the week of stress. The interruption of Cage bumping his fist against her thigh and releasing a handful of grass and dirt on her dress couldn't pull her from her sense of calm. It only added to it.

On their way home Misty heard a sound she hadn't heard in the forest until today. She had taken a different road home for the sake of variety and stumbled upon the sound of a laughing child. This one sounded older and the laugh was light, safe. For this reason she didn't feel cautious, only curious. She couldn't help treading a little lighter though, as she neared the sound.

He came running towards her soon after, flinging a stick in the air, chasing some insect tough enough to survive the heat. His dark skin made him fall into the shadows, but the loud laughter didn't improve his hunting skills.

Shortly thereafter came his mother, calling his name.

"Damian, don't run too far." She saw Misty standing there and she looked surprised for a moment. There was a second where her eyes scanned her, found the baby in her arms and her expression seemed to soften. Then she said: "He's got the energy of ten spring chickens, that boy." She sounded like a New Orleans inbred, Misty thought. She had heard this particular accent a couple of times in town, when she worked, though her bar was mostly filled by white folks. She thought this woman looked familiar; she had seen her someplace before, but couldn't quite place her. She had dark skin, which resonated in the sun, making it shine like gold in the light of it. Waist length black braids were gathered behind her back and the colorful dress she wore stood out against the background of green and earth tones. She was a beautiful woman with a kind smile, but the bell didn't quite ring yet.

Misty smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, summer will do that to you."

She noticed that the woman was scrutinizing her in equal fashion. "I seen you someplace before. You live close?"

Misty was about to tell her that she used to live just a mile away, but thought better of it. No one had ever found her clearing unless she wanted them too and she wasn't about to change that.

"I live at the borders of town."

"Not my part of town I can tell. I'm Marie."

"Misty."

A small flicker of remembrance ran across Marie's face, but not strong enough apparently, because she didn't say anything. They didn't shake hands, merely nodded at each other. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding that that was enough. Cage made a sound that sounded a bit like 'hi' and waved at the kid, just now returning to his mother. He looked a year or so older than Cage himself. Cage walked too, but he didn't run around like this boy just yet. Misty hoped he would soon, so she could take a trip just like the one this woman and her son was on.

"He's a happy one, your boy."

"Yeah", Misty said and ruffled his hair. "He ain't mine though. Well he is, but I ain't his mama, you see. Her name's Cordelia, she's…" Misty trailed off, because she never knew what to call them. Jackson just called Cordelia 'her woman', most said girlfriend, but that word felt too weak. She had rarely needed to express to anyone what they were. Those who saw them together never needed to ask.

Something seemed to dawn on Marie now, before Misty had a chance to finish her sentence. Her face changed. The beauty stayed, but it turned darker as the kindness washed away.

"You the one who live with the Goode's. That's where I know you from. You that wild child they took in all those year ago."

A sudden cold emerged between them. The abrupt anger in the woman's voice triggered a childhood memory.

"So you're that woman Delphine worked-"

"Don't mention her name to me." She didn't yell, but fury shot from her eyes. Misty realized of course that she had every right to be angry. At first Misty didn't understand why the anger extended to her, but then she remembered that Marie Laveau probably knew nothing of Misty's abilities and nothing of how she had tried to help. Misty almost told her, but another ghost stopped her. It was Myrtle's croaked voice, telling her not to share her gifts with everyone. And the shadow, which had fallen upon Laveau's features told Misty this wasn't a person to tell. Instead she said:

"What Fiona let happen ain't got nothin' to do with me. She's Delia's mama, that's all." As much as she wanted it in this moment, she knew that wasn't the entire truth anymore. The baby and those weeks spent trying to work together to coax Cordelia back to sanity had changed them to something a little more. And she thought Laveau saw that.

"She ain't your mama too? That's what I read about you."

"She was, but only on paper."

"Paper, huh? Sounds more like she owned you." Misty remembered how Fiona used to refer to her as a dog or a pet and she fought not the let the anger surface. Laveau turned away before she could snarl a proper answer. "Come, Damian, time to go home."

She grabbed the kid by the wrist and led him out. Misty stood back and watched them leave, while Cage tugged on her hair. His mood was the only one unaffected.

When she came back home, the unease still lingered with her. It was so subtle most would never register it, but Cordelia did.

"What's the matter, love?" She quickly checked Cage, as if to see if her worries about his first trip had been reasonable. He only smiled and greeted his mother.

Misty considered not telling her. She didn't want to blow air into something that was probably nothing and burden Cordelia without reason – she was troubled easily lately – but that shadow in Laveau's face wouldn't leave her mind.

"I met Marie Laveau in the forest on my way home", she admitted. "Nothin' special happened, it was only a feelin'. She's still holdin' that grudge from back then, you know, with Delphine."

Cordelia sighed and Misty thought she detected relief. "I don't blame her, honestly."

Misty sat Cage down and he waddled joyfully into the living room. The two of them followed.

"It just bugs me that she thinks it's my fault too, when…"

"When it's all on me?" Fiona finished her sentence. Misty hadn't realized she was home, but there she sat in her armchair as usual, looking at Misty as she entered. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

"You did let Delphine work here."

"Christ, not this again. I thought I was helping her out of an abusive workplace and getting a cheap housekeeper in the trade. And we got her fed to your alligator friends, did we not? I'd say we've earned being let off the hook."

"Laveau doesn't seem to think so."

"Laveau has been on a warpath ever since Delphine got out of prison and showed up at her house to get the daughter out."

Both Misty and Cordelia looked up at her with surprise. Fiona scoffed.

"You hear a lot of gossip at the bars, when you're not drunk. She has quite the reputation, that woman."

Cordelia sat down to play with Cage, but Misty couldn't quite let go.

"How so?" She asked.

Fiona shot her an examining look. "Rumor has it she's been in contact with the underworld. Some people call her the Voodoo Queen, saying that enemies of hers tend to come to unfortunate ends. Delphine used to say something similar, claim Laveau had _voodooed_ her into working for her. There was a lot more talk earlier on, but she has had her mind elsewhere since she had that kid apparently. Still you hear things once in a while. Normally I would say that it's all theater nonsense, all this talk of the undead and potions and whatnot, but _you_ exist, so why not? Though let me say this, kid, I know you said you had a good chat with Papa Legba when you- but the rest of us mere mortals can't just-"

"He is real." Cordelia's soft voice broke Fiona off her speech and caught them both by surprise. Misty turned around to face Cordelia, but Cordelia didn't look up. She smiled at Cage, when she handed him a toy car, but the smile was heavy with memories. Memories Misty hadn't heard of until this moment.

"You saw him? When?"

Cordelia shook her head slightly, as if to belittle her own words. "It wasn't more than a glimpse. It was… that night. He smiled at me and he wanted me to come to him. I told him not yet."

Misty went to her and sat down. Cordelia avoided her gaze, kept her facades up so her son wouldn't see. She hadn't realized yet, that Cage saw right through her the same way Misty did.

"You never said that. He told me 'bout it when I talked to him, but I thought he was just trickin' me."

Cordelia finally met her gaze. It was full of pain, that kind of lingering suffer, she had never been able to shed, even when the crisis was long over. In that moment they exchanged all that needed to be told and felt. Misty understood that her pain came from those moments of despair Misty had caused her when trying to save her mind. There was no blame in this pain, it was just there, like a shadow tethered to her being and it took time to fade. And Misty told her without words that it was okay. The only one still in the dark was Fiona.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Misty nodded. She took Cordelia's hand and played with her fingers, while she told her every part of Cage's first visit to the swamp, which didn't involve any hurtful ghosts.


	2. Chapter 2

Misty knew she was in trouble as soon as she entered the bar. Cal, the manager, stood behind the desk with his arms crossed and his gaze locked on hers the instant she walked in, which could only be because he had been staring at the door since fifteen minutes ago, when her shift had started.

His eyes narrowed when she met them. "My office, Misty." Then he turned and walked out into the room at the back.

"Someone's in trouble", Jackson said as she passed the bar. She scowled at him and he gave her an encouraging smile. "I tried to talk him down for you, but he's real pissed at you."

"Yeah, thanks Jackson", she said before going through the back door to face the wrath of her boss. She knew she had it coming. It wasn't her first time being late, far from. She had worked here nearly two years at a stretch now – not counting the year she spent here as a teenager in need of money for food before she settled down in the woods – and it was the longest she had kept a job ever since she started working. She didn't mind the place, but she hated the concept of working. After spending her whole life shaping the day to her will, it seemed almost impossible to 'conform to civilization' as Fiona often expressed it, while she rolled her eyes at Misty.

She found Cal looking torn as he stepped uneasily back and forth.

"Just spit it out," she said.

"See that right there is what I'm talkin' 'bout", Cal said and pointed at her. "You actin' like I'm not the boss of you. I'm not tryna play macho here, but I _am_ the boss of you and I'm gettin' 'bout fed up with your attitude and your lack of respect for my rules. Now, you owe me somethin' here. I put up with you when you worked here as a teenager, because you were a kid alone in the world and you didn't know any better." He sighed and finally stood still. " _And_ I've been lookin' the other way, 'cause you've got a kid on your own now and God knows I know how beat that makes ya, but my charity quota is runnin' out, doll. The customers like you, but this ain't gonna cut it in the long run. Lose the attitude, get your crap together and show up on time, okay?"

Misty hadn't realized she had bared her teeth. She stifled the aggressive expression and nodded.

"Don't make me regret givin' you another chance."

"Okay."

His expression softened. He might display a temper, one that came with a rumor strong enough to fend off aggressive customers, but his rebukes were always short. Same with the temper bursts. Misty's wasn't as short-lived and his beginning calm didn't soothe her.

"Good. Now back to work. If you're lucky you might just get to tie that hair up before the second wave hits."

Misty said nothing more, but went to work instead. She did her best not to appear too angry while serving all the drunks of New Orleans, but facades were something Cordelia had mastered, not her. If it wasn't for Jackson she might have scared all the payers away and then she would definitely get the kick. With Jackson at the counter, she loosened up just enough to make it through the night. He put her to ease somehow. Apart from the alcohol intake, Jackson represented something Misty felt a serious lack of: Freedom. He might only have the coins he rolled over the counter every other night, but no one ever told him where to be. No one expected him to excel at anything. No one would be disappointed if he failed.

"You can call my cab now, Misty."

"You live two blocks away, Jackson."

"Oh right." His voice slurred just a little. His black hair fell into his eyes and he shook his head like a wet dog to get it out. Misty couldn't help laughing at him.

"You need a hand to get home?"

He shook his head again, less enthusiastically this time. "Na, two blocks I can manage. See you around, kiddo. Say hi to your woman for me."

Misty packed up and watched him leave, made sure he walked straight enough to get home. But Jackson was always secure on his feet, no matter how many beers he emptied, it seemed. He was nothing like Fiona used to be; he never got mean that way, only happier. Maybe he didn't drink to forget, like Cordelia had once told Misty Fiona did.

She didn't go directly to the house. It was the very early hours of morning and the sun would be peeking over the horizon soon. She loved watching that from the swamp so she went there for a couple of hours, trying to reconnect with her former life.

The sky was bleaching towards light blue, when she finally walked up the isle to the mansion. She locked herself in, went through the silent house like a ghost and walked straight to her and Cordelia's room. She stood there for a moment, undressed and ready for bed, and gazed at Cordelia in her light sleep. The house was never home, but this was. The sight of her. It had been almost four years since that day in the swamp where they got their second chance. That reunion had tipped and turned everything about Misty's life, to a point where she barely recognized it, except for the feeling of warmth, when she watched Cordelia. The need to be close to her, to feel her milky skin against Misty's own and listen to her breathe in peace, knowing that at least she was happy now. After four years Misty was finally sure she had mended that tear she had left in Cordelia's heart as a teenager and in moments like this, she forgave herself for making the tear in the first place.

Cordelia moved, groaned lightly and opened her eyes.

"Hey." Her voice was thick and sleepy, yet still soothing.

Misty sighed and crawled into bed with her. She snuck an arm around Cordelia's waist and scooted close. Legs entangled.

"Hey."

Cordelia's eyes became searching, worried. A hand came up and brushed the hair out of Misty's face. Misty took the hand in her own.

"What's wrong?"

"Just a rough night."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Misty tried to shake her head against the pillow. "Nothin' to say. I just hate it. Workin'."

Cordelia smiled her sad smile. "I know, love. I'm sorry to make you do it."

"Let's just sleep. You gotta be up soon."

"You sure?"

Misty inched closer and caught Cordelia's lips. A heartfelt response like the one she got always soothed her more than any word could. She pulled Cordelia closer, deepened the kiss a little. Loved that her heart still picked up a pace whenever she made Cordelia sigh like that. She was ready to sneak her hand inside Cordelia's nightgown, when Cordelia broke the kiss. Misty's heart fell with disappointment, but she didn't object. Apology shone in Cordelia's eyes but Misty shook her head at it. There was no need.

Cordelia closed her eyes and Misty took a few seconds to look at her, to feel her in her arms and clean the slate for the day. Then she closed her eyes as well.

O0O

Fiona stared at the toddler. He sat on the floor in the living room building little cities with colorful wooden bricks. In a minute he would swing his tiny arms and knock the whole city down like some blonde baby Godzilla, laughing while doing it. Children are insane, Fiona had never doubted that. It is a different kind of crazy, but it's there. She only had to remember Misty at the age of five to be certain. Cordelia was different yet. She was quiet even as a toddler. That was where she and her son sometimes differed.

The little boy knocked down the first building, squealed joyfully and looked up at her. He was a beautiful boy, fair haired just like the women of the family and big blue eyes that shared a bit of that special feature her daughter had. He was the spitting image of her and it sometimes made Fiona feel like she was choking. Whether it was happiness or some darker emotion, she was never quite sure.

Cage laughed and knocked over the next brick. Then he looked up as if he offered her to take part in the joyful destruction. Fiona continued to stare at him with exasperation.

"Why would your mom leave you with me? Has she learned nothing?"

"When mommy home? When mama home?" He asked in his own simplified child language. More and more words came to him at this time. Cordelia didn't want him in public institutions, so he didn't have many kids his age to talk to and develop, something Fiona often reminded her, but there was no discussing the matter, apparently.

"In a couple of hours." He continued to look at her, as he had no grasp on the concept of time and only waited for an answer his child brain could wrap itself around. "They're coming soon, darling. Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"Pretty?"

"Yes, pretty." Fiona sighed. It had been too long since she had taken care of a small child. She didn't do it much when she was supposed to anyway and she couldn't fathom what had possessed her daughter to let her babysit this time. Maybe she figured that after three years Fiona could be alone with her grandson. So much for trust.

A cheerful knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Cage looked up with lights in his eyes.

"Mommy?"

"No, it's not her." Fiona got up to open the door, left Cage in the living room. Cordelia wouldn't get off work for a couple of hours and even though Misty had her early day today, she wouldn't be home now either. They would come home at about the same time, have dinner and that was when Fiona would kindly be asked to ship herself off to Cometh's, so they could be alone at least once a week. Fiona usually left before they got the chance to kick her out. She didn't need to be told that she wasn't wanted.

Outside the door stood Zoe, a young girl who used to be some teacher's assistant of Cordelia's. She was quite the help during Cordelia's early pregnancy, when she was supposed to be working but didn't, being too busy putting her broken mind back together. For this reason, Fiona found it hard to be overly rude to the girl.

"Oh hi Mrs. Goode. Um, I was wondering if Cordelia is working today?"

"She is. Can I take a message?" Apparently, this was what she had been reduced to. A part time lawyer and a secretary for a primary school teaching daughter.

"Oh I was just wondering if she could maybe write me a letter of recommendation. I'm trying to get a job at the school."

"So college is over I take it?"

She shook her head with a smile. "Not quite yet, but we had early exams, so I'm home now." Zoe stopped talking as Cage came waddling out into the hallway, most likely checking to see if Fiona had been lying to him. Zoe beamed at him and crouched down. "Hey little guy, look how much you're grown!"

Cage took a hesitant step towards her and Fiona could almost see the cogwheels work behind his eyes, trying to figure out why where he knew the girl from. The long months away had erased her from his memory time and again. But at last he smiled as if he had almost worked it out.

Zoe reached out a hand and took his chubby little one with two of her fingers. "You're such a handsome little fellow, aren't you?" He waved at her and Zoe snickered.

"Would you like to come in and wait before your voice contract all the babies in the neighborhood?" Fiona asked. The babying in the doorway was getting a little too much.

Zoe gave her an insecure smile. "Thank you."

Fiona watched Zoe play with the toddler for a good hour without pause. She didn't know how to participate. She didn't know how to talk to a child, the Lord knew she was aware of that. And the fact that she still had no grasp on it the second time around only enhanced the ache of the first failure and made her want to drink. She hadn't been drinking since Misty started healing her, not really. She knew the little witch would stop helping the second she broke her promise. And the few time she had slipped stayed between her and Cometh. That was his promise.

She ached for a drink now, but somehow watching Cage smile and laugh and wave his arms around soothed her urges. It distracted her enough to escape the spiraling addict's mindset. She ignored Zoe's nervous glances and kept her eyes on the child, as if his mere presence held some sort of healing property. Maybe he was a child of Misty in some absurd fairytale way. Cordelia sure seemed to think so.

Another half hour went and the door opened.

"Mommy?" Cage's eyes lit right up and he abandoned the game he and Zoe had been in the middle of to run with his waddling, insecure steps towards his mom. Fiona heard Cordelia greet him in the hallway, her voice warm with love. It sounded so full it, as if she could barely contain it. As if it was almost too much. Fiona had thought this for a while.

She came in minutes later, holding the child on her hip. It became her, motherhood. She shone in a way Fiona knew she herself never had. Cordelia would be a much better mother. That was why Fiona never worried for Cage, when she worried about Cordelia.

"Zoe? Hi, what are you doing here? I thought you were away at college?" Cordelia asked. A smile shone through her features as Cage hugged his little arms around her neck.

"When mama home?" Cage asked, stealing her focus.

"Soon, love. She'll be right there."

Zoe had stood up, but stayed by the middle of the room, patiently awaiting her audience. She looked at Cordelia and the baby with a teenager's admiration. When Cordelia finally looked back at her, she stammered and then said: "It's over for now, early exam. I just came by to see if you could help me with a job at your school in. Mrs., um, your mom invited me in so I just kept Cage company for a while, hope that's okay. He's such a sweet boy. Anyway a word from you would really help."

"Of course it's okay, you know you're always welcome here, Zoe. And I'd love to help you. You may think too much of my position with the board though, but I'll do what I can." Zoe nodded eagerly and didn't seem to catch the shadow in Cordelia's voice. She couldn't possibly know Cordelia's current reputation at the school after being away for three years.

"I'm sure you could do plenty", Zoe said, confirming all of Fiona's suspicions.

"You're sweet. Can I offer you something to drink?"

"A cup of tea would be great, but I can just get it myself." Cordelia declined, saying that she shouldn't be served in her own house and Fiona couldn't help the scoff. Zoe eyed her, but Cordelia didn't respond at all.

Fiona didn't participate in the conversation, but merely followed it from a distance. She didn't feel good today. She would have to pull Misty aside soon to attend to her demanding, sickened liver. Once a month didn't seem to be enough anymore.

Just then the front door opened again, as if she was called to by thought alone like the mythological creature she was. Cage squealed again and got up when Cordelia did. Misty came into the living room by the time Cage latched himself onto her leg. She smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Hey baby boy."

"Hey mama!"

She grinned and rose to greet the second part of her family. These hellos were barely whispered before Misty pulled Cordelia in for a kiss. Misty had never given a damn about who watched her and somewhere along the way she had infected Cordelia with that carelessness. It was all fine, Fiona supposed, except it was somewhat tiring to watch them every day act as if they had been apart for far more than nine goddamn hours.

"Do you want me to become a mother-in-law nightmare, Misty? I assure you I have plenty of practice."

They finally broke the kiss and Cordelia shot her a disapproving look. It was mad, but tainted with the impression that Cordelia had given up on trying to correct her.

"I'm sure you do", Misty said. Her voice sounded irritated, but not as harsh as it used to be. Even she had learned to pick her battles. She had released Cordelia from her embrace, but a hand kept contact.

Zoe stared at them with that teenage adoration back in her eyes. She had done this so often and all the pheromones were getting the better of Fiona's nerves.

"I think Zoe here is ready to join that fan club of yours, your nurse established three years ago."

"Who, Emily?" Cordelia asked, ignoring the rest of Fiona's words along with the blush in Zoe's face.

"She called about your upcoming check-up by the way."

"Thanks for the message."

"I-I should get going anyway", Zoe interrupted. She looked flustered and awkward now. "I'll come by one of the days about the letter, if you wanted to-"

"Of course I will write it", Cordelia helped. "I can give you a call when I'm done. Say Zoe…" Cordelia and Misty exchanged looks for a second, making it look like they were up to something. The look reminded Fiona of when they were kids and sat by the dinner table non-verbally planning to sneak out to the greenhouse later. "Are you still with your boyfriend?"

"Kyle? Yeah I am."

"We thought, or we wondered, if you would like to bring him along next time you come by? It would be nice for Cage to get more familiar with men and you've spoken so well of him."

The anxiety in Zoe's face vanished and she lit up with surprise. "Oh sure! Yeah of course. I mean I'll ask him, but I'm sure he won't mind."

"You don't think all the nice, handsome ones hide things in their saxophone cases?" Fiona snapped, finally catching on.

"Not now, mother", Cordelia snapped back and went on to thank Zoe instead. She ushered her to the door, perhaps afraid Fiona would unveil more secrets. Misty stayed back with Cage around her ankles and shot Fiona a look. Then she rolled her eyes. Maybe she had become family after all.

O0O

The sun of an early spring shone down on them as they walked through the swamp. Cage sat on Misty's shoulders, from where he had the complete overview. He pointed at everything, trying to name things and asking what the rest where. Misty kept telling him with endless patience. It was nice to have someone as fascinated by the swamp as she was herself. And at that age, no one had been there to tell her what things were.

Cordelia walked beside them. She had finally stopped worrying about the prospect of Cage falling off Misty's shoulders and she kept their pace with a look of absolute peace on her face. She didn't look like this often. Sometimes Misty thought if the shadows were creeping in on her again, but on days like this it couldn't be farther from her mind. She wanted to reach out and take Cordelia's hand, but she was busy holding Cage in place. His toddler weight wasn't much on her shoulders and she could walk like this the whole distance from the edge to her shack without getting sore. She was used to it by now. Still, he wasn't good at keeping still up there.

"What's that?" The little boy asked and pointed.

"That's another tree, pup." She didn't know the name of the kinds of trees, only differed them by looks, but Cage didn't need more. He accepted and pointed to the next thing.

"Mommy look! A tree."

Cordelia smiled. "That's right, love." She would sometimes chime in with the real names, being the biology teacher she was. But not today. Now she looked at Misty. "He never gets tired of this game, does he?"

"Na", Misty agreed with a laugh. "But neither do I, so that's alright."

"Child." Cordelia shook her head, but her voice was as warm as the sun coming down through the green crown of leaves. A breeze sifted through the trees and brushed passed them, pulled at the edges of Misty's dress and teased her hair into her face. It took her sight, tickled her face and stuck on her lips when she tried to blow it away. Her hands were tied around tiny boy calves and were of no use to her.

"Cage, can you get the hair outta my face?"

"Okay mama." Tiny chubby fingers crawled into her face and lifted the hair away. His weight shifted as he did so and Misty had to move her hands to keep him in place. She sensed Cordelia tighten up beside her, as she did so, and imagined the awkward position he must be in right now.

"Don't worry, Delia, I got him."

She sighed. "You think I worry too much, don't you?"

Misty gave her a look, when her vision cleared. "I think you worry like a mama should. But you don't gotta, not with me. You know that."

"I know."

A comfortable silence came upon them, in which Misty could take in nature, the way she always did when visiting. Recharging her battery, soothing her wild soul the way city life would never be able to. The songs of birds above offered her a sweet lullaby and the ground warmed her bare feet. The sweet aura of Cordelia's presence were a part of this feeling of home, same with Cage's now. They had been engulfed by the sensation of being home and they only added to the comfort.

The clearing came up head. Light divided the subtle shade they walked in, welcomed them home. To Misty they did anyway. It would always just be visiting for Cordelia and Cage, she knew that. And she accepted it, so long as it was still home to her.

They stepped out in the open and there was a taste in the air. Misty couldn't place it, so she didn't say anything as they walked towards her shack. The door to her shack was open, which was nothing new. No one ever came out here, so Misty's privacy was neither enhanced nor deprived by the swing of her front door. That wasn't it. She couldn't spot Nick, which she bet made Cordelia feel much better. But it made Misty cautious.

There was a calling in the distance, a voice perhaps, shrill with fear. For a second Misty wasn't sure if it was the wind playing tricks on her or not, but then she heard it again.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, turned to Cordelia. She looked confused for a moment, then the sound seemed to reach her ears as well. She nodded slowly, warily.

Misty looked around. That thing in the air bit at her. It darkened the sky, it drew out the warmth, so very subtly she didn't notice it at first. She looked down towards the river. Her heart picked up speed, just enough for her to know she wasn't imagining it.

"Delia, take Cage. Stay here."

"What is it, Misty?" She sounded nervous, but confused still, when she took the boy from Misty and cradled him in her embrace. She didn't have the same grasp on nature, she couldn't read it. She could only read Misty.

"Not sure, but stay back." With that she walked closer to the path, leading to the river. The voice in the wind became a little louder for just a moment. It sounded like a cry. A woman's cry perhaps, but too unclear to tell.

She found Nick on the way there, a little over halfway down. There was blood on his nose. They saw each other, but he did not move. She could feel the predator in him today. He had hunted with the rest of the pack for whatever had bled on his nose. He wasn't a friend for chat today. She accepted that and went on, more wary than before. As she looked down on the ground, she saw tracks of feet scattered all over the muddy path. The gators had been up here. That was what felt so different. They so rarely did that, but it always left destruction.

The alligators were agitated. They walked around each other, some snapped at another and ripping sounds filled the air. And there was the taste again. Misty felt it in her body too now and knew that it was the taste of death. She knew the long devoured bodies of Delphine and her half-brother were down here, their bones digging into the mud and she cringed at the thought. Something else had joined the pile of bones today. Something that wasn't supposed to be here, because a natural kill of nature wouldn't gnaw at her this way.

She moved by the trees, ready to climb one if necessary. Most of the gators were retrieving to the water now, but a few hung back, further up the path than most days. The last one was only a few feet from her now, pushing something around with its nose. Misty pulled herself up on a low hanging branch to getter a better view of just what had upset nature today.

Her stomach turned and a sound of sick surprise went through her clenched teeth. She hopped down and hissed at the alligator, hoping that she could fool it, prevent it from noticing how hard her heart pounded. The surprise attack worked, sent the creature waddling down towards the rest of the pack and Misty moved quick before it changed its mind.

For a second as she neared she hoped her eyes had fooled her, that the sight wasn't real. But it was and her stomach turned again. She recognized him, even two limbs short, torso ripped open and with half his face gone. It was that little boy, energetically running around the woods. It was Marie Laveau's son.

She knew he was dead even before she picked him up, but she couldn't leave him there. The cry in the wind must be Laveau. She would want her child. Misty pulled the mangled body into her arms and ran back up the path before the gators decided to take offense at her stealing their prey. There was still warmth in the boy's body, blood still ran out of him and it tightened in Misty's chest. He was heavier than Cage, but still of boy structure and that notion made nausea crawl to the very top of Misty's throat. If only they had been five minutes earlier, she could have saved him. Now he was torn apart and that was beyond her powers. She knew that. Even if she got his heart started, the damage was too severe; there were parts missing from inside his little body too. He would never breathe right again.

She could hear them calling now, Marie and Cordelia. She barely had time to lay the boy down and make one last hopeless examination, before they both came running up to her. Instead she wrapped the remaining clothes around his body to keep it closed as the footsteps fast approached. She heard them and panic struck her at the thought of Cordelia seeing the bloodied, mangled body of the dead child.

"Misty!" She called and Misty looked up at her, didn't even see Marie Laveau at first.

"Stop there!" She yelled and Cordelia instantly halted, shock all over her face at the harshness of Misty's voice. But it was too late already. Her eyes skipped down and she whimpered, a hand flew to her mouth and she turned to cover Cage from the sight.

" _Damian_!" Laveau screamed and only now did Misty look at her. Her beautiful face was twisted in fear and changing, as Misty watched it, to emotions far graver and more devastating, when she too looked at the boy.

"I'm so sorry-" Misty didn't get to say more before Laveau screamed in wordless agony and ripped the child up from the ground. She fell back on the ground, clutching the dead boy to her chest, sobbing. His stomach opened beneath the hasty wrap and Marie wailed at the sight. Misty stood frozen for a moment, trapped in the pain of a mother's loss, that she felt she shouldn't be there to share. Yet she couldn't leave. The air cramped with Laveau's pain and even out in the open it was difficult to breathe. Misty looked up at Cordelia, whose gaze were fixated on the scene, tears streaming down her cheeks and fear flashing in her eyes. Cage looked up at his mother with a confused look, feeling the fear but having no tools to understand it.

Misty walked to her, placed a hand on Cordelia's arm.

"Go back to the shack. Wait for me there. Go now."

At first Cordelia didn't move, she only kept staring at the crying mother and Misty could almost see her switching their positions, imagining the same thing happening to Cage. Misty pushed at her and finally she looked up, nodded and started walking towards the shack.

Misty stood back and looked at Laveau. She didn't cry, but she felt the tears like a lump in her throat, stuck in there, too large to move either way. She couldn't help but wonder what had possessed the gators to attack like that. She couldn't remember them ever behaving that way, not in the summer at least.

"I'm so sorry, Marie. I wish I'd gotten there faster."

The crying stopped. The crouching woman heaved for a clean breath and quieted.

"You", she then said. Misty walked around her slowly to catch her face. The darkness in the tone had made her alert. "You let them do this."

"No, I-"

"You let them do this! I know about you and those gators. They are your servants, you used to live with them. And you let them _eat_ my child!"

"I don't control 'em! One is my friend but the rest, we tolerate each other. I don't tell 'em what to do."

"You let them kill my Damian! My poor little boy..." She looked up from the boy and stared at Misty with a look that was ravenous and half-mad. "Mark my words, _witch_ , I will have my revenge."

Misty measured her gaze for a moment, not sure how to take the threat. The pain in Laveau's voice ached in her throat and she decided to say nothing. Laveau no longer payed any attention to her, but had reduced to sobbing and rocking back and forth with the child in her arms. Misty retreated then, left her alone after making sure the gators were far away.

Cordelia looked up as soon as she opened the door to the shack. Cage sat on the floor and looked quietly from one to the other. He registered everything, that little boy, but he was far too young to decipher what anything meant yet. His confusion hadn't faded yet and neither had Cordelia's crying. She got up and hurried over to hug her arms around Misty's neck. Misty shushed her gently, hummed a tune until the trembling stopped, and rubbed a hand over her back.

"What happened, mama?"

"A little boy got hurt, Cage. But it's over now."

Cordelia sniffled and stepped away. Her hand made a move towards her temple, but instead she closed her eyes, drew a heavy sigh and opened them again, looking more collected.

"You okay, darlin'?"

She nodded. "Is he?"

Misty shook her head subtly, gave an answer Cage wouldn't pick up on. She never lied to Cage, even if the truth scared him, but she understood that shielding him was important. He was too young to know how disturbing the world was sometimes.

Cordelia closed her eyes again for a moment, as if to shield herself from the whole world, something she had never been able to do. "I should have listened to you, stayed away, but then she came running. I was just scared for you. But you couldn't… do anything?"

Misty shook her head. "I can't regrow limps."

"God", Cordelia whispered. "Can we please go home?"

Misty didn't argue, only nodded her head and led the way. Outside in the clearing, they could still hear Marie Laveau crying.

O0O

He came to her that night. She would have gladly turned him away at the door, sent him back to the dark of hell where he came from, so she could stay here forever, in this chair with what remained of her beautiful little Damian. One of his eyes hung loose in the bruised socket and couldn't quite shut, but the other was untouched and gently closed now, as if he was sleeping in her arms, like he used to as a baby. She would gladly sit here in this chair and mourn him for the rest of the year. But you don't turn Papa Legba away at the door. He doesn't use doors.

Molded by shadow as he was, he emerged from them, and she suddenly found him in her bedroom. He took a seat at the table by the far end wall. He even tipped his high, black top hat at her, but Marie didn't look at him. She had wished for more years than she could count for him to visit her again. After Delphine had murdered half her staff she thought it some more, wished for it more than ever, so she could personally see an end to that poor excuse for a human being. And now, when he was finally here, all she wanted was to be able to tell him to leave.

"I told you the ritual would be done when you lost your dearest possession. Now we can move forward."

"I don't want your gift", Marie whispered, eyes kept on her son. She worried that if she looked up, Damian might not be there when she lowered her gaze again. "I don't want it no more. Just give me back my Damian. My poor baby."

He tsk'ed. "The deal was made, the signature struck with blood. I don't do refunds."

"I want my child." She dared looking up as she said this with more insistence than before. As if it made a difference.

He smiled a taunting smile. Yellow teeth popped out between the crack of his grey lips. "Children ain't in the cards for you. Your boy is with me now."

"Give him back!" She screamed. She got up, ready to lunge at him, when Damian fell from her grasp. She immediately regretted her action, whimpered and crouched down to pick him up.

"The body you can keep."

She picked up her glass from the night stand and threw it at his head. It broke into a thousand pieces as it collided with the end wall. Papa Legba was already gone.

"Marie?" Her sister's voice reached in through the door.

" _Leave_ ", she hissed and sat down on the floor with her boy. She knew his body was empty now. Exchanged for a gift she wanted years ago, the consequences of which she had barely given thought to. Now she could only desperately wish that she had. She looked at his golden skin, pale in death now and thought that she would never be able to think of a revenge destructive enough to cover this loss. But she sure as hell would die trying.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all who's decided to follow my story again, I really appreciate it! Just wanted to say that I made some minor changes in the second-to-last scene of chapter two. Nothing serious, just clarifying a bit. Anyway enough out of me, hope you'll enjoy this next one.**

* * *

Cordelia's eyes snapped open, her body woken by her own desperate cries. The images, all the blood and the torn flesh and the glossy look in his abandoned eyes saying she should have saved him, coursed through her body like voltage, so powerful it left her trembling. She fought against the grip of sleep holding her down, panicking as it wouldn't let her go and screamed out, only to realize the hands were human.

"Delia, baby, breathe. He's okay. It's just the bad dreams."

Her eyes finally started to see the ceiling of her bedroom and it all came back to her. She felt embarrassed, fooled by a dream yet again. But at the same time she was still so agitated she couldn't believe it was as simple as that.

"I have to go check on him."

"He's fine, I promise."

"I have to-" She got out of bed before Misty could protest any further and ran to the nursery. She found him there, sound asleep, not a scratch on him and just like all the other nights she could start to calm down. She never woke him; just watching him breathe in and out was enough. It was all she needed to know that it was just the nightmares again. They had gone on for weeks now, always the same one. Always her in that poor woman's place, watching Cage's perfect little body torn and broken, half eaten by the monsters at the river. He would never go there again. She promised herself this every night she stood here, but somehow Misty always convinced her of her own foolishness by the time daylight hit.

She had hoped the image hadn't settled as badly as it did. A whole week went by without any sign. Her head had remained quiet when the shock wore off, and she went on with her week, determined not to let Marie Laveau's pain be hers as well. She had gone about her life, got Cage to his usual health checkup and thought it was behind her. Yet here she stood for the seventh time in four weeks. And the shock never got easier.

Misty came up behind her, put her arms around her waist and rested her head on Cordelia's shoulder. She didn't say anything. The 'I told you so' whispered in her quiet breathing, but not once had she said it aloud. Cordelia kept her eyes on her sleeping son, while leaning back into the safety of Misty's body and securing a hand over hers.

"I know I'm being silly."

"You ain't silly. You're just scared. It's okay." The warmth of Misty's voice soothed away the last of the unease from the dream. An 'I love you' lingered on Cordelia's tongue, but she kept it there, enjoyed the taste of it. She never needed to speak it, because Misty's faith in this had never wavered. Cordelia was the only one needing reassurance from time to time.

Instead she asked: "How are you so calm about it? My dreams are haunted by one glimpse, but you carried that poor child. I feel like I'm stealing your chance to recover."

"I'm fine, Delia."

"I know you are, but how?"

She shrugged against Cordelia's back, but didn't look, as they both proceeded to gaze at the sleeping child. "Molded by nature I guess. I once found a fox cup, lookin' 'bout the same way and that was my very first month alone out there. Wasn't the last baby animal I found like that. You get used to it."

"But this? You said that wasn't normal alligator behavior."

"Sometimes nature acts out." She said it with an acceptance that added ten years to her age. She always spoke of the wild with the certainty someone uses when speaking of a child or a best friend. Like she knew it to the very soul. Cordelia sometimes thought a part of Mother Nature must live inside her young lover. Some part of the swamp's spirit had latched onto her in those early childhood years. This above all was what made her trust Misty with Cage, despite her own fear of the forest.

Misty kissed her neck, ending Cordelia's train of thoughts.

"You okay now?"

Cordelia nodded, smiled at the dark. "Yes, I believe so."

"Wanna come back to bed?"

"In a moment."

Misty accepted it, loosened her embrace and left the room. Cordelia didn't move. She only needed a moment longer to know that those horrific images truly were only dreams. Then she returned to their bedroom.

She found Misty sitting on the edge of the bed, when she came in. There was a look in her eyes, Cordelia easily recognized and she knew what was on Misty's mind even before she had gotten up. Cordelia considered telling her no, but accepted the kiss instead. It was a slow one, tasting the atmosphere. Teasing just a little, with teeth scraping against her bottom lip.

Misty's smile was playful, hopeful. "I was thinkin', since we're up anyway…" Her hands gripped a little tighter at Cordelia's waist, toyed with the fabric of her nightgown.

"I don't know, Misty. We don't have many hours left of sleep and you know he's going to wake up at five-"

"C'mon, Delia", she urged, mouths barely two inches apart. "I miss touchin' you. We rarely make time for us anymore."

Her words for arguments dissolved on her tongue and she sighed instead. She was tired of shutting Misty down. She knew she shouldn't keep her distant this way. The grey might have been lifted, depression didn't weigh as heavily on her anymore, but some never quite faded and while Misty seemed to live forever in those feelings of new and shiny love, Cordelia had a harder time holding on to them. But she didn't want to forget. What she wanted was for Misty's youthful mind to rub off on her.

She leaned in and caught Misty's mouth in a kiss deeper than before. Misty caught up at once, hands already making their way to their favorite spots. With one quick, fluid motion, Cordelia took off Misty's t-shirt and gently pushed her onto the bed. Misty laughed and her eyes shone with thrill through the half dark of the bedroom. She grabbed a fistful of Cordelia's nightgown and pulled her down too. They moved to the middle of the bed and Misty pulled her nightgown over her head, her hands giving away her rush.

"What's the hurry, love? You've got me."

Misty chuckled and answered with a passionate kiss. Her hands started to travel. They might miss the touch, but they certainly hadn't forgotten it. Cordelia allowed herself to sink into it, felt her heartbeat change, pick up speed despite herself. Her skin grew hot where Misty touched it and as it often was, she forgot why she would ever turn Misty down for this. Mind and body followed the rhythm of Misty's heavy breathing, hips rocked to it until those breaths turned to whimpers. She let her mouth wander, tasting the skin she knew like her own by now. She pressed herself to Misty's hands with sudden need, but reminded herself that tonight was for Misty. She would not be selfish. Misty never asked for much, but tonight she did ask. Cordelia found herself consumed with this wish and for a moment forgot the face of her new tormentor. She tasted only salt, saw only the pale of skin and heard only the breaths of what she was doing right.

O0O

"Here it is", Zoe said and tugged at her boyfriend's hand. They turned up the isle to the Goode Mansion and Kyle's eyes grew wide as they took in the house.

"Whoa, some place. I know you said Fiona used to be a successful lawyer, but damn."

"And I imagine she was good at it", Zoe said. She was sure that if Fiona Goode was half as intimidating to a jury as she was to Zoe, she would win every single case with a toss of the head. She had been there every time Zoe came by, if it was to babysit or just to say hi and Zoe always felt studied, scrutinized. Just the mere presence of Fiona made Zoe think twice about every movement. And she studied back equally, however more carefully. There was something majestic about Fiona. It was obvious in her aging features that her prime had past her, but the pride never wavered and neither did the sharp look in her eyes. She was a rock, a cold statue in the armchair, always watching the scene. Zoe had a hard time seeing the relation to her favorite teacher. And now more than ever. Zoe used to know Cordelia as a great teacher, confident in it too and maybe the relation was right there, but over the summer, she had come to know a very different woman in her mentor. All of it from the radical change that had happened while Zoe had been away on college.

She remembered one day back for vacation so clearly, because it became her introduction to Cordelia's personal life; something she had secretly wanted to be a part of for a long time. It was just at the start of college some years ago, not long after all the apparent turmoil had settled and it was before she had had a change to overhear all the talk about Cordelia at school. The teacher had pulled Zoe aside to confess a lie she had told her the day Zoe assisted her on the trip to Misty's swamp.

"I'm terribly sorry for lying to you, Zoe. I hope you understand that it came from a place of desperation on my part and I hope you'll forgive me."

Zoe took no offense, felt only a smug sort of elation that those warms looks passed in the swamp hadn't just been her imagination. She remembered squealing something like "I knew it!" before she got a hold of herself. "It's totally cool, Cordelia, I get it. I can't believe I was right all this time though, I can't wait to tell Kyle. I can tell Kyle, right?"

Cordelia had looked hesitant for a moment and then nodded with a smile. Zoe thought this conversation above all was what made her toss the rumors that now depicted Cordelia as unstable and weird. Cordelia didn't dismiss the rumors, but Zoe always took her side.

"So we're just gonna say hi or what?" Kyle asked, dragging her out of reminiscing.

"Yeah, you know, they asked if I could bring you, because Cage doesn't have so many men in his life, so they thought you would be a good example."

"Hm well, I am awfully handsome and nice." He winked at her and knocked on the door.

Zoe laughed and was just about to agree, when the door opened.

Cordelia appeared on the other side, greeted them with a smile. "Hello to you both." She turned to Kyle. "You must be Kyle. Zoe has told us so many great things about you."

"I'll take that as a good sign", he said and shook Cordelia's hand. She invited them in and Zoe followed the two. She already knew the house and allowed Kyle his first look by himself. She stayed in the background as Misty came out to greet them as well and the couple proceeded to show Kyle around the house. Cordelia announced that Fiona was absent today, for which Zoe was guiltily grateful. She caught a glimpse of Spalding, the odd butler of the house, but he stayed away in the shadows. He felt like a poltergeist to her, solid in form but seemingly able to appear and disappear at will. His lack of speech added to her sense of unease, because it seemed his missing words magnified in his gaze. He always looked so intense.

They found Cage in the living room, on the floor in the middle of all his toys. Cordelia bent down to pick him up and placed him on her hip.

"We have a visitor for you, love. This is Kyle."

Cage examined Kyle with a slight crease in his forehead, as if confused by the sudden new face, but lit up soon enough and spoke a "Hi."

"Hey there, little man." The little boy only turned a shy head once, and little after little he began to interact with his visitor. They sat down again, Cage secure right by his mom and Kyle in front of him, playing with his toys as if he was a toddler himself. Misty stood behind them and sometimes a look passed between her and Cordelia. Zoe never tired of looking at the two. They still looked at each other the exact same way they had that day at the swamp. Whatever much had happened in the meantime, that hadn't changed. The atmosphere hummed with warmth and ease around them and it quickly engulfed both Zoe and Kyle. Kyle was rarely shy, and he rarely gossiped, but the rumors had reached his ears too. He had asked Zoe once just what kind of state this teacher of Zoe's was in, if she needed extra help like this. Now he seemed to realize that his role wasn't as extensive as he had made it out to be. He was not the help, only a guest. A friendly face for Cage to know.

Zoe sometimes couldn't help wondering to herself how much of the rumors were true, but there was no mental illness leaking off Cordelia today, the way she was portrayed by the harshest tongues at school. Mean whispers depicted her as if a dark halo of madness hovered over her and that this halo might infect those who neared, but of course this was all just cruel nonsense. Cordelia was the confident teacher Zoe had known ever since she graduated and she felt honored to be within the walls of her home. At the end of the evening, she was proud to tell Cordelia that she had gotten a temporary job at the school the upcoming spring.

"So I'll see you around, I suppose", Cordelia said after her congratulations. "I hope you will still have some time for babysitting once in a while. Cage really likes you and my mother is not that reliable."

"Oh yeah of course! I think Kyle likes to play out his inner child too", she said and nodded at the two boys, twenty years apart in age but equally invested in building a train track. Even Misty had joined in, but she couldn't keep up with Kyle. Zoe held still for a moment, watching him in his childish joy. He was an only child just like Zoe herself, but something about the blonde hair on both of the boy's heads made her think of a pair of brothers. Kyle's family was always a topic to be avoided, but he looked like such a family guy.

When she looked up Cordelia was eyeing her knowingly.

"I wish I had known him all my life", Zoe confessed. "Just like you and Misty."

Cordelia responded: "We were apart for ten years. Long years I might add. What you and Kyle have established already is pretty good, Zoe."

She smiled, delighted at the admission. "Yeah I know."

O0O

"Marry me."

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Christ, you never stop, do you?"

"Not when I have no reason to." Cometh planted kisses up her arm. Fiona couldn't keep the smile contained long enough for him not to see it, but when his eyes asked the question again, she stifled it.

"Marriage has never been the walk in the park you paint it to be. Especially not marriage to me." She withdrew her hand and took a sip of her soda. She still felt like an idiot, like some goddamn teenage kid, whenever she drank that soda, but a good whiskey was off limits and a plain water was just too boring.

Cometh shot her that look she hated, the one that made him look as though he was gazing at some adorable madwoman.

"Fiona, just because one went bad doesn't mean they all will."

Fiona scoffed. "You clearly haven't paid enough attention to the women of my name. Don't you see a pattern?"

He shook his head at her. It always annoyed her when he did that, but he didn't give her a chance to cut him off. "Just like yourself, your daughter didn't meet the right person at the right time. You don't think she will ever divorce Misty, do you?"

"No. Because they are not married."

He chuckled, too lighthearted a sound for her to be able to accuse him of mockery. "You're missing my point."

"Well your point is stupid. I need a cigarette. And don't give me that look." She got up from the couch and went to the jacket in the hallway to get her pack of cigarettes from the pocket. Her house was quiet today now that neither of the occupants had returned home and she didn't bother to hide the smokes.

She had made the mistake of telling Cometh about the promise she had made to Misty. She had said nothing of what she had gotten in return, only that she had made these promises to stay healthy out of some pseudo daughter-in-law bonding moment. As far as he knew, the chemotherapy had helped her. He sometimes asked questions about that night, the one where the entire atmosphere of the house had shifted and Fiona had come out of much less sick, but Fiona didn't know how to explain it. She still wasn't sure she fully understood how it was that Hank had been dead, Misty must have been for a couple of hours, Cordelia's soul definitely was and now they were all alive. The less she thought about it, the less she needed to smoke. Which was what everyone wanted anyway.

She went outside on the porch to light it. The least she could do was to keep it away from Cage and the rooms he played in. She didn't really care if they knew, but she wouldn't want to poison the little boy's air. He was far too young to be corrupted by or exposed to the delightful, but devilish addictions of adult life.

Cometh came out to her. He didn't propose any more that night, only kept silent. He knew when she was fed up with his nagging. It was sweet that he did, she thought, that he knew her so well. But she couldn't marry him just because he was acquainted with her mood swings.

An hour later Cordelia came home. Fiona heard Spalding tripping down the stairs to help her with the groceries. He always vanished whenever Cometh was there, went up in smoke like a vampire out of an old movie. Fiona didn't even feel him lurking. He only emerged out of duty and because, like the rest of them, he was mesmerized by the little boy.

"This will be my cue to leave, I take it", Cometh said and kissed her cheek.

"My daughter does not dictate when you leave."

"It's quite alright. She doesn't like me very much, does she?"

Fiona didn't answer. She didn't protest either, when Cometh let her go. She put out the cigarette and followed him inside. They passed Cordelia in the kitchen on their way.

Cometh did a polite nod. "Hello Cordelia. I will be out of your way now."

"It's fine, Cometh. Don't let me chase you out", she said with the same politeness, but Fiona wasn't fooled. She didn't think Cometh was either. He waved at the little boy, running around with a small toy he had gotten at the store and Cage waved back with a shy hand.

It took him a minute to get dressed, in which Fiona tasted the cool air in silence. Cometh seemed to recognize the look in her face and gave her a smile. "There's always my place?"

"I think I'll have a talk with my daughter."

He nodded and gave her a kiss on his way out.

Fiona found Cordelia still in the kitchen, putting things away and gathering others for cooking. Cage had gone to play in the living room, where all his toys lay sprawled out from the night before – she had often wondered just how fast her proud, neatly styled house had turned into the looks of a kindergarten – and they were left alone together in the cool atmosphere. Cordelia didn't look up when she entered, but kept her focus on the dinner she was about to start. Fiona often argued that cooking was a job for the maid, but Cordelia still insisted no such service was needed. And Spalding sure couldn't cook.

"Did you want something, mother?" Her voice was soft and even and it annoyed Fiona even more.

"Would you care to tell me why you keep acting like a goddamn child? I thought we agreed you would try. Or is this just revenge for my view on Hank?"

Cordelia shook her head as she sliced up vegetables, still not looking up. "I'm not vengeful like you. I'm glad he makes you happy, but I don't want a cocaine dealer around my son."

"Who I decide to bring into _my_ house is _my_ business."

Cordelia finally stepped away from the preparations and looked up at Fiona. "Your house?"

"Yes, _my_ house. It's in my name, is it not?"

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. "Actually, mother, it's in mine."

"Which comes back to me. I handed it to you temporarily, so your estate is my estate."

She shot Fiona a disbelieving and disapproving look. "I can't believe you still think you own everything, after all this time."

Fiona scoffed. "Well that didn't change, did it? I don't believe you have the money to keep it to yourself anymore, so don't fool yourself into thinking you're the master of this house."

Cordelia didn't say more. For a moment it looked like she wanted to, but she stopped herself. She sighed and looked back down at her vegetables instead, but there was a moment where Fiona caught something she hadn't seen in years. A cold had crept into Cordelia's stare. The distance, the abyss. It made Fiona suddenly want to take back her words, true or not. It made her nervous.

There was a knock on the door and she didn't get to say anything to take their fight in either direction.

"Would you get that? Or is it too much to ask of the master?" The acid in Cordelia's voice was not the same it had been years ago, Fiona would give her that much. Maybe Misty had taught her to speak up or maybe she was finally turning into Fiona herself. Fiona hoped it was the first of the two.

She didn't answer the question, merely scoffed again and left the kitchen. Spalding appeared from the living room, but she waved him away. She was well capable of answering her own goddamn door; there would be no dispute of that.

She didn't recognize the face of the visitor, only that he was not from this part of town. He was just a kid, but the look in his eyes didn't say kid trouble. The disgust in his stare was too mature for a teenager.

Fiona didn't say anything, only stared down the boy, waiting for him to present himself. He didn't. Instead he said:

"I have a message from Madame Marie Laveau. She says you better watch all of your backs or a gator feast ain't gon' be the worst on your conscience. And you, Fiona Goode, your wrongs ain't forgotten. You gon' come to a tragic end."

He didn't give Fiona a chance to answer, before he turned around and drove away on his skateboard. There was an almost laughable contrast between the threat, he had just given, and the driving off on a graffiti covered skateboard. She stared after him, but he never looked back. Part of her wanted to brush it off as some kid's prank, but that look in his eyes had her convinced. She had heard of the incident that day in the swamp, hell she had shot one look at Cordelia's ashy face and known this wasn't light problems. Now Laveau was up to something. And if she planned to dig up the old war over Delphine and all Fiona's presumed hate for her kind, Fiona would face it alone. There was no need to worry Cordelia, especially if she was becoming fragile again.

For that reason, Fiona said nothing, when she returned. Cordelia asked once, to which Fiona handed her a lie about a lost kid asking for directions and went to sit in her armchair. It took two to fight a war and Fiona wasn't about to start one. She had thought the issue with Delphine buried at her arrest and cast into oblivion at her death, but rumors had it Laveau had lost her wits with the loss of her child. The plague of an angry woman in grief usually went away if no one paid attention, much like a child who loses interest if no one reacts to its tantrums. So, she intended to sit here and watch her grandson, while Laveau finished her fit of rage in the unknown.


	4. Chapter 4

"There. You're good for now." Her voice sounded unsure. Misty withdrew her hands, but her gaze lingered. She kept staring at the spot on Fiona's stomach she had just released her hands from, as if it spoke Russian profanities to her. Her forehead creased and Fiona had about had it with the mystery.

"What is wrong with your face?"

She hesitated, eyes narrowed as they stared at Fiona's skin. "There's somethin' in there I can't reach. Somethin' new. It's gettin' worse." Misty finally looked up and her eyes were serious. There was no pity in her gaze and only a minimum of compassion. All the filters she used to cushion Cordelia from worry were nowhere in sight, when it was just the two of them. Misty never felt the need to go easy on Fiona. It wasn't a courtesy, as much as it was plain dislike, Fiona knew that, but she appreciated it anyway. She would rather know sooner than later. Whatever demon disease it was she had to fight this time, at least she knew it was there. And she had some idea of its origin as well.

"My guess is this is what they call alcoholic liver disease", she said with airy indifference. "I hear that happens. I hoped you could get rid of that too, but sounds like my luck is up."

It wasn't worry in Misty's eyes, but something close. Well concealed behind her disapproval. "But you don't drink no more, do you? You quit, didn't you?"

"I find your concern touching", Fiona snapped. "Same time next week?"

"I don't think I can help you for much longer if that _thing_ gets worse." She stared at Fiona's stomach as if it was mocking her.

Fiona waved her off. "Stop staring at me like that. You worry about what you can fix, alright kid?"

Misty reluctantly nodded and Fiona turned around to leave the room, which used to be Misty's old bedroom, but had now become hers – the reversal of their positions had a sort of bitter taste, Fiona could never quite ignore – when Misty said:

"You didn't answer my question."

Fiona scoffed. "Persistent, are we? Are you going to stop healing me if I say yes?" Misty gave her an annoyed glance and Fiona felt like lighting a cigarette. But she reigned herself in.

"Just answer."

"No. There's no drinking." She let the lie settle for a few seconds to make sure Misty bought it and then left. It wasn't a big lie, which was what made it convincing. She hadn't really slipped, only taken a sip once in a while, if the stress boiled over. And Cometh always watched over her, got her back on track. Hardly a problem and hardly of any concern to the witch who stood before her like a superior, sleeping in Fiona's old bed, acting like she was now head of the house.

They would never be.

Despite herself, Fiona went to the doctor. Misty might be magical, and she might have some intimate knowledge of disease that no one, no matter how hard and long they studied, would ever achieve, but she was no scientist. She wasn't an x-ray machine. And Fiona needed one of those to figure out for sure what she was fighting this time.

She wasn't nervous when she had the tests taken, nor when she waited for the result. She made sure Misty thought she was so uninvolved in whatever couldn't be cured, she wouldn't ask about it. And hopefully she said nothing to Cordelia. Fiona counted that she wouldn't. Cordelia seemed frailer these days, darker of mind and she didn't sleep well. There was an unspoken agreement between Misty and Fiona that neither would give her more excuses to worry, if they could get around it. Misty hated it, that much was obvious, but her urge to be honest with Cordelia was often overpowered by her wish to protect her. Fiona had never struggled much with honesty, but she understood protection well.

When the day came and she sat in front of the doctor, she wasn't nervous either. She was sceptic above all, not about the diagnosis he was about to make – and she could see it in his eyes that it was coming – but about the whole education system. Who allows for doctors to be that young? Surely civilization was evolved enough now at the end of the 20th century to end child labor in developed countries. The boy in front of her barely grown a beard and there he sat, ready to hand her a death sentence. At least the doctor who diagnosed her with cancer was old enough to be able to dust off his diploma.

Now the man-child's face, no doubt as smooth as Cage's behind, creased with worry and he announced that he had bad news.

"Spit it out, kid. Don't waver like that."

"I'm afraid it is cirrhosis, ma'am." He paused for a minute as if allowing her to take it in. Fiona stared right back, only annoyed with the silence.

"So? Do you expect _me_ to come up with a treatment plan or are you going to make some suggestions?"

His eyes widened a little, but he collected himself fast. Shame, Fiona thought. She would have enjoyed watching him squirm in his seat.

"Well your condition is quite progressed, if I'm being honest-"

"I damn well hope you are."

"Of course, ma'am. My point is that at this point, the only option left is putting you on the list for a liver transplant."

So, she was really dying now. And she was outside Misty's help. Fiona sighed, took in the realization. There was a finality about the notion, heavy, but steady. She could take it without dissolving in despair, which she thought perhaps she would have only a few years ago. Now… Well, it was bound to get there someday, she thought. She had let Misty cheat her death for years already, but as the swamp witch always said; nature wins in the end. Papa Legba would get her at last; life had finally grown weary of having her around and was giving up on her, despite all the help.

"Well do it then", she said.

He nodded and scrambled a bit with his papers. Fiona sat back and waited impatiently. The doctor looked up – almost reluctantly she thought – and said: "There are some, um, formalities. And we need to discuss a few things first."

"Such as?"

"First of all I need to know if you're sober?"

Fiona raised an eyebrow and shot him a piercing look. "Do I look drunk to you?" She asked, which made him shake his head quite insistently. It would have been hilarious, if the situation wasn't so grave.

"Of course not, ma'am, but given your history, we need to vouch for your sobriety before you go on the list. And we can perhaps discuss organ donation from a family member?"

Fiona shook her head. "No, there will be none of that."

"You should know that with the transplant list, it can take up to-"

"I said no. You write down whatever you need to write down and I'll be on my way. I have to pick up my grandson in half an hour." The child doctor opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him again. "And I will take care of the bill here, don't you dare have it sent to my house."

With that, Fiona got up and left the doctor's office.

O0O

Zoe sometimes forgot that Cage wasn't Misty's child, biologically speaking at least. He looked nothing like her, except for the blonde hair – which was more Cordelia's light blonde and not the golden one like Misty's anyway – but there was a little wildling inside him. Just in the short time Zoe had really known him, he got more secure on his feet and now he ran around the garden like an unstoppable bundle of energy. Nurture over nature it seemed, because she had only ever seen Misty run around with him like that. Cordelia was the responsible parent, the one who cooked and had him put to bed at the right time. She had even heard Misty join in on Cage's pleas to stay up once, which Cordelia did not find funny. The rest of them did.

It was a bright day, the perfect day for running around in the garden. Zoe wasn't supposed to babysit today, since Misty was home for the day, but she sometimes liked to come over here anyway. It had quickly become a second home. She wanted to make a third – or a new first more likely – with Kyle alone, but they hadn't settled on anything yet. He had sent her a text saying he had some big news for tonight, and there was a part of her that hoped he would show her some new apartment he had found. One where they could both live, as opposed to the tiny one he rented for himself in the most crowded part of New Orleans. He had taken the first chance he could to get out of his childhood home and it came with an all-night beat of music from the nearest pub. Zoe hoped he had found some nice, quiet space by the edge of the city. Just like this, only a place they could actually afford.

Child laughter interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to find that Misty had caught up to Cage and they had fallen to the ground together. Misty tickled him until he squealed and wiggled out of her grasp to run free again. She watched him run and have his attention drawn by butterflies in the air.

Moments later Misty got up and came to sit beside Zoe. There was dirt and grass stains on her dress, but she didn't seem to mind it at all. On the contrary, it suited her. It reminded Zoe more of the woman she had met in the swamp four years ago, a little more free of mind and perhaps a little less tame. Misty had confessed to her the restrictions she felt living here and while Zoe never thought of anything like that, the look of dirt on Misty's dress somehow made her realize how different Misty was.

"It's a nice day, ain't it?"

"Sure is", Zoe agreed. "Where did Cage go?"

Misty took a quick look around. "Over by the porch I think." She laid down on the grass and closed her eyes with a smile on her face.

"Shouldn't we get him?"

"Na, give him some space. He needs that sometimes. I made sure he can't get outta the garden." Cage's laughter rung from the other end of the garden as if to confirm her words.

"Do you think that Cordelia is too strict with him?" She asked, sensing this lay between the lines.

Misty shook her head and ruffled her hair into the grass in the process. "I didn't say that. But she scares easy. Boy gotta figure out the world on his own sometimes."

A question Zoe often hesitated to ask, tickled on her tongue again. Now seemed a good time. "Misty, can I ask you something?"

She opened her eyes, squinted at the sunlight. "Yeah?"

Zoe chewed her words for a moment, figuring out how to ask without sounding insensitive. Misty only looked curious, welcoming her words and she said: "I know you were… left in the woods as a kid, you know, in the swamps. I just always wondered, how did you survive that? I don't mean to pry, I'm just so amazed and I don't understand. I mean I would live for like a week out there in the swamp and that's _now_."

She shrugged in the grass. "I just did. I learned to read nature, learned to avoid the bears and foxes. I don't get sick in the winter or when I drink bad water. And I just took it one day at a time I guess."

"It's incredible, you know that right? You should be a legend or something."

Misty smiled and propped herself up on her elbows. She opened her mouth to speak, when something changed in her gaze, as if she picked up on a sound Zoe couldn't hear. She sat up straight and looked around. Her eyes went to the tree and they widened.

She was up and running towards it before Zoe even realized that Cage had decided to climb it. He had somehow gotten four feet up, but now his strength was lacking. His tiny feet and hands couldn't quite hold on and he slipped before Misty had a chance to catch him. With arms gasping desperately, he rushed down the tree and his body hit the ground, before she could throw herself under him. His scream pierced the air. Zoe scrambled to her feet and ran to them.

"Misty! Is he okay?" Cage's crying almost drowned out her words.

"Yeah…" Misty said, but she dragged. Only when Zoe got there did she see why; he had scratched his arm on the tree as he fell and a cut almost as long as his little forearm had burst open. Misty was busy picking out splinters and Cage cried as she did.

"Oh God, Misty we need to get him to the hospital. Oh poor little guy."

Misty didn't move immediately, but sat down and tried to shush the boy. He kept crying. Misty's eyes were fixated on the wound, her fingers carefully cleaning it.

"Misty, we-"

"No", she said. Her voice was firm, but not harsh. Zoe stopped in her track, confused.

"But…" She didn't say more, because something about Misty made her disconnect from her own thoughts. An aura of sorts had come over her. Her eyes were still zoned in on the boy's arm with remarkable concentration, taking the boy's screaming into consideration, and it was as if the world had ceased to exist around her. Zoe doubted if Misty had even heard her speak. Misty held Cage close with one hand and the other she put over his arm now, covering the injury.

Cage stopped crying at once. He sniffled a bit, but no other sound came over his lips. He looked up at his mother with wonder, but not shock. Not like the shock in Zoe's face, when Misty moved her hand and revealed perfectly fine, intact skin.

Zoe's otherwise firm understanding of the world and its metaphysics snapped out of place as her brain tried to comprehend what her eyes were telling it. She stared at Cage's arm, waiting for the wound to reappear when he turned it, but there was nothing. It was as if the past two minutes hadn't happened.

"How did- w-what? Did you just…"

Cage cuddled into Misty's embrace and Misty looked up. She waited calmly for Zoe to stop stammering, before she said: "You can keep a secret right? You can tell Kyle, if you trust him, but no one else, okay?"

"Wh- yeah, sure."

"Good. You got time for a story?"

Zoe dumped into the grass beside Misty and nodded, sensing this would be quite a one. Her mind felt empty yet too stuffed at the same time. Then Misty began to explain.

Zoe went home that night, her head full of things she didn't think possible of this world. She went home a little bit wiser on Misty's survival and that incident none of them wanted to talk about, but also with the feeling that she knew nothing of the world she lived in. Actual magic. Healing, _revival_. She was so preoccupied she completely forgot about Kyle and his big news. When he came over to her parent's house that night, she blurted out her own news at once. She told it in a whisper so her parents wouldn't hear in case they decided to pass the door just then.

"… But you can't tell anyone. I promised Misty I would keep this between us."

Kyle had sat down and he looked like someone who had just drunken a large beer too fast. His voice sounded dazed when he said: "I doubt anyone would believe me."

"You have to promise me Kyle!"

"Hey, hey I promise, okay?" He took her hands in his and squeezed them gently. He had large hands and the way her tiny ones disappeared in his grasp made her feel slightly more relaxed. As if she knew he could keep her safe and in extend keep their secret. She planted a kiss on top of his hand.

"Thanks."

"So magic, huh? That's something. It kinda took the gust out of what I was about to say, but that's that. Not everyday you find out your employer's girlfriend's a witch, am I right?" He winked at her.

Then it hit her. "Right, tell me your news! I'm sorry, I was just so overwhelmed, yeah, like you say. But what's the news?" She looked at his face, hoping to find a lopsided smile and see him pull out an add from his apartment search. Instead, his gaze turned insecure for just a moment. This was rare for him and Zoe's heart began to work up a hint of anxiety.

"Well it's not a thing as much as it's a thought. But I want to go to New York. I want to go to law school or something like that. Get away from here, you know. Start fresh. And I really want to see the big cities, just like you have." Zoe sat back, unsure of what to say. She didn't want him to see how her dream crashed inside her, shot down by a wish she couldn't possibly deny him. But he saw it anyway. "Zoe, say something please."

She fought to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but even so it came out too thin to fool him. "I can't say you shouldn't go. You know that. But I thought we would live here?"

The light that had appeared in his eyes before, as he talked, fell. "Zoe, you know I never wanted to stay. Not here, where my mom lives. I gotta get away. And I want you with me."

"A-and I want to be with you, but my mom and dad are here. I missed them so much while I was away."

He sighed. All the cheerfulness from a minute before had ushered out of the room. "We don't have to decide anything right now. But I'm going at some point."

Zoe sniffled the tears away. Nodded. Kyle didn't say more, but pulled her close and they cuddled up in the bed together. He ran a hand through her long hair. Kissed her gently.

"We can handle long distance, if it comes to it. We've done it for the past three years already. And we'll do it again, when you go back to college sometime in the fall. Maybe I'll just be calling you from somewhere else."

Zoe knew she was being unfair, crying over this. She had done it, of course he would too. Only she didn't want to escape New Orleans. She had a good family to return to and she always would have. When Kyle finally left, it would be to run away.

O0O

After Cordelia had put Cage to sleep that night, Misty came up to her. They were alone tonight; Fiona was at Cometh's and whenever she was that, Spalding withdrew to whatever creek of shade he hid in. The house was quiet.

Misty had a serious look in her eyes, when she sat down on the couch beside Cordelia. She took her hand, kissed in and put it in her lap.

"I gotta tell you 'bout somethin' that happened today and I wanted to wait until you had spent the day with Cage so you could see that he's fine."

"What happened?" Cordelia asked, already worried despite Misty's obvious effort not to make it so.

"Cage climbed one of the trees in the garden and fell down. He cut his arm pretty deep-" Cordelia's mind instantly went into a sickening spiral at the thought of Cage being hurt, not unlike those dreams that tormented her. She desperately wanted to think back, visualize his arm and search for damage, but she was able to take comfort in knowing that he had been fine all afternoon. Misty had made sure of that. "-and I healed him. So he's fine."

"He seemed that way, yes. Thank God you were there, love, but why do you sound like I'm about to get mad at you?"

She swallowed once and said: "Because Zoe was there too. She saw and I told her everythin'. I imagine she's told Kyle, but she promised to keep it between them."

Cordelia said nothing at first, her mind working its way towards a response she could justify. Worked a line between the worry and the anger. A slow sort of panic emerged, mixing with the ghost of the words her auntie Myrtle had once spoken, her warning that Misty should not show her abilities to anyone. She withdrew her hand from Misty's grasp and Misty's face fell.

"What if she tells someone anyway? Misty someone could hurt you! We're already vulnerable because half the town thinks we're crazy, both of us. You think I'm the only one they talk about at work?"

"I trust Zoe and I don't care what people say", Misty argued with calm.

"Well maybe you should!" Her voice raised with her fright and the change of tone changed the light in Misty's eyes. Cordelia saw it, but continued anyway: "You can't be this careless anymore, not in this life. The things that worked in the swamp doesn't work here."

"But I don't wanna _be_ here!" It came out of nowhere. Rather, it wasn't exactly nowhere, because Cordelia knew Misty wasn't satisfied with living her life outside the forest, but the drastic turn it made in their discussion left her stunned. Misty got up, too agitated to sit. "I can deal with this house, but I never wanted this role. I don't fit into this life. I ain't your new Hank, Delia!" The words were barely above conversation level, but they hit her just like if Misty had shouted them. Cordelia recoiled and stared at Misty's suddenly angry face.

"Why would you say that?" She said with a whisper. She felt the tears sting in her eyes and the whispers at her ear. Too good for her, they said. Misty was too good for her, and she was her own. It was one of the things Cordelia loved most about her and now it tore a cliff between them. "I would never want you to be."

"Then stop tryna change us into what you had."

Cordelia stood up too, but with less stamina. "I don't _want_ you to change. But I want you to acknowledge that I can't provide for this family by myself and I need you."

The flashing of Misty's hard eyes faded. "I'm tryin', but…" She sighed and walked closer. Took Cordelia's hand again and studied it while she gathered her words. Then she looked up again and her gaze softened. "You're going cold on me. I need you to act like you need _me_ and not only the money I make." The look in her eyes tore at Cordelia's chest, made it tighten with regret.

"Oh Misty, I'm sorry. It has nothing to do with you, I'm just…" She trailed off. She didn't know what to say, or how to excuse that she took all her mental chaos out on Misty. Or that she in an attempt to shield herself shut the whole world out. Even the part of it that was weaved so thoroughly into hers as Misty was. It felt like she was shutting out a piece of herself too. For most of her years, she thought that was just who she was, this dull grey shade of a person, but having been with Misty for four years had showed her she was more. Now she knew that she was only half herself these days. And the ground had begun to crumble because of it.

Misty's hands came up to cup Cordelia's face. Cordelia didn't want the eye contact at first but Misty had a patient soul. When they met, her eyes were full of worry.

"Darlin', are you okay?"

Cordelia sighed and said honestly: "I don't know."

"Do you hear them?"

"They never quite go away anymore."

Her psychiatrist had taught her how to deal with them, the voices, the whispers. How to live with them, push them to the back of her mind until they faded into oblivion. Or to act on whatever stressor that had triggered them. She knew that when they said things to her, commented her every action it was only her own feelings amplified and she could use them as guidelines. And she knew that when they started to talk about her, she needed to find Misty. Only when wrapped in her arms, listening to her soft voice singing, could Cordelia calm herself and resist the urge to scratch her temples to blood. Sometimes being with Cage also helped. He seemed to sense when she was in need of distraction. Tonight there was only vague whispers, called to by the fearful thought of having Misty exposed to the hostile environment that was Cordelia's everyday life.

She wrapped her arms around Misty's waist and buried her face in her shoulder. Misty kissed her hair.

"I know what I'm doing, Delia. They're my abilities and I ain't apologizin' for who I trust them with."

"You shouldn't. I just got scared at the prospect of someone else treating you like Delphine or your family did."

Misty tightened her embrace, drew small circles of comfort on Cordelia's upper back. Her voice was a warm murmur in Cordelia's ear. "Figured you would. But we're okay."

"I love you." Cordelia mumbled it into Misty's shoulder, but she knew she heard. The voices wouldn't let her hear the reply, but it floated in the air, in the hum of Misty's voice, waiting for Cordelia to accept it yet again.

O0O

Hank watched the smoke rise, the last of it curling in the air, bent by the wind. It felt like such a fitting metaphor for his life and he had to laugh at it. In reality his life had gone up in smoke a long time ago, but only now had higher forces taken the time to remind him. If there were such. It's hard to come back from the deep dark dead and still believe there is a god. He didn't believe in anything anymore. He didn't feel much either. He had for a while with Kaylee, but that paper filter between him and the world never went away. It was difficult to experience anything as strongly as he used to.

But at least it had cured him of his alcohol addiction. He had spent two years attending group meetings, maybe stayed a little longer because of Kaylee. They had helped each other out of their bad habits. He had thought he helped her kick her addiction to lighting matches, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe she was too crazy to break the habit.

Apparently this was all there was in store for him. Crazy.

It made him think of Cordelia. He never considered her crazy, not until the very last hour, when she asked him to leave with the argument that she was going to lose her shit and never recover. It bothered him that he let her drive him off. This was one of the few things that still got under his skin. He could look back at the whole thing and see clearly now, with the haze of rage gone. He couldn't stand it then, the thought of this amazon alligator-tamer stealing his place in the world. But Cordelia really loved that amazon, so much she would lose her mind over that loss. He understood that only through the filter death had granted him.

Logical thought had Hank believe Misty was most likely dead by now, but logically speaking _he_ should be too. So he had doubts, yet he always recalled the feeling of Misty's cold, light body as he carried her back to the mansion that night. There was no life left in that body. He knew it, Spalding knew it and Fiona knew it the moment she saw her. Cordelia wanted to hope, but she knew it too. That's why she sent him away. He saw all this with a calm sense of logic and it left him one question: How was Cordelia now? Was she admitted to some mental facility again? Was she at home, a lifeless shadow like he remembered she was back when her aunt died? Now that his thoughts were clear and his ties to this city were broken, he began to wonder. If there was still a scrap of Cordelia left in his ex-wife, maybe he ought to reconnect with her. His sponsor sure thought he should have done that a year ago, make amends or whatever they called that step of the program.

Maybe he should take the advice. There was nothing for him here anyway. He couldn't go back to Boston, because he might run into his father. As far as Harrison Foxx knew, Hank died in that car crash and was buried in the cemetery at the outskirts of New Orleans. Hank had called him up once or twice, just to hear his voice, but always disconnected without a word. This was all the interaction with his old ties he had left; pseudo attempts at phone conversations with his dad. He enjoyed freedom but he missed the sense of belonging somewhere. To someone. Like normal people, who hadn't been dead and buried did. And now he had no home yet again.

Hank stood in the ashes of his burnt down apartment and began to think that it might just be the perfect time to pay New Orleans a visit.

* * *

 **A/N: You didn't think I was going to let Hank sit this one out, did you?**


	5. Chapter 5

A sunny Saturday was not a rare sight in New Orleans, but those days in between where the sun occasionally peeked out from a light cloud cover and created something more pleasant than the usual summer heat was. Misty went to gather Cage for their day in the swamp. There was more wildlife when the weather wasn't as dry and harsh and she wanted him to see that. Kyle and Zoe were on their way as well; they had asked if they could come and though Misty was hesitant to let more people into the privacy of her meadow, she didn't mind sharing the rest of the swamp. They would find another good spot.

Cordelia stopped her before she had a chance to tear Cage away from his toys. Her eyes were apologetic, when she put a hand on Misty's arm and Misty knew her plans had just been changed.

"I don't think you should take him out there today."

Misty stopped and turned to look at her. Despite the fragility always present in Cordelia's eyes, whenever they disagreed, she was dead set on this. Misty saw that in the hardness of her gaze.

"It's 'cause of your nightmares, ain't it?" Cage hadn't been to the swamp since the nightmares first started, but now, two months later, Misty thought she had made enough convincing arguments that the trip was safe. But she was apparently wrong.

"Please understand, Misty. We're not as resilient as you. I don't know how much he saw, but he is too young to deal with that anyhow- and I know _you_ did, but he's not you. He doesn't understand nature the way you do."

Misty couldn't quite keep the sulking out of her voice. "Maybe if you let him, he would."

"When he's a little older and we can explain things to him."

"You know I would never put him in danger." She glanced down at Cage and found him looking up at them. Misty had to make sure not to raise her voice, when he sat right there. Angry or not, he shouldn't have to feel it.

Cordelia said: "I know you would never, not intentionally anyway."

"Delia…"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't want him out there."

Misty wanted to ask if she was sorry for making his day boring or for not trusting her, but stopped herself before the words spilled out. Instead she said: "Fine. But I'm still going."

She left them in the living room then and went for some cool water to calm her down. She immediately realized it was a bad choice, as Fiona sat at the kitchen table with a late breakfast.

She looked up when Misty came in and Misty almost growled at her knowing expression. She turned her back to Fiona and filled a glass with water. Took a while to drink it and tried her best to ignore Fiona's presence.

"You don't honestly think she'll ever willingly let Cage out of her sight again after what happened last time you were out there, do you?"

"Stay out of it", Misty snarled. Fiona kept silent, but when Misty turned around again, she caught her eye at once.

"It's hard not being the one she loves the most anymore, isn't it?" Misty paused mid-motion at that, clueless of how to respond. Fiona took a casual sip of her coffee and looked up again. "Don't look so shocked. Take it from someone who's always been in third place."

There was something about Fiona's suggestion that made Misty feel like she had just been degraded. As if Fiona was trying to drag her down with her. It made the heat just below her skin rise again.

"I never say horrible things to her like you do", she defended.

"I didn't say you did. But you don't understand a mother's love, Misty. It makes us just slightly crazy and then we make bad decisions trying to be overprotective."

"Don't you _dare_ use this as an excuse for all your mistakes", Misty snarled at her and then left the room. She went by the living room, where Cordelia sat. She looked up with an insecure glance, as Misty passed them. She couldn't make up a smile, so she waved instead and went for the door. The house was much too small all of a sudden.

She met Kyle and Zoe outside, as they walked up the isle, hand in hand.

"Where's Cage?" Zoe asked.

Misty didn't slow down, but kept walking while she answered: "Delia wants him to stay home. So I'm going alone."

"Oh."

Misty walked past them and was halfway down the isle, when Kyle spoke.

"Can we still come?" He asked. "I kinda want to see all the wildlife you talk about."

"Kyle, I think she wants to be alone", Misty heard Zoe whisper. She stopped then and considered it for a moment. She did like Kyle. She turned again and managed to crank out a smile.

"It's okay. You can come if you wanna. Help me find a good spot for when I get Delia convinced to bring him again."

The three of them walked towards the swamp and Misty's anger slowly dissipated as they started talking. Enjoying the company of someone who wasn't Cordelia was still new to her, but between her friend Jackson at work and this young couple she had grown to like it.

Kyle was a good talker. He told her about his school in the city and then how he had met Zoe, after she snuck into a frat party one evening. "You ever been to a party, Misty? I'm just asking, because you don't strike me as the type."

"I've been to one. Delia took me once, when we were kids. Wasn't for me. Too much noise." She smiled at the memory. It didn't hurt like it used to, now that her love for Cordelia was no longer aching and unrequited.

"It does get very loud", Zoe agreed. "I remember I was looking for the door, when I ran into Kyle. If it wasn't for him I would have just gone home an hour into the party. I like the quiet too."

They reached the forest and went into the cool shade of trees. The familiar noises of nature started emerging form the crooks and curves of the woods and filled Misty with peace. She left the last of her indignation at the doorstep to the swamp.

"So you really lived out her as a kid?" Kyle asked. When Misty looked at him, he shrugged and pointed at Zoe. "Yeah she told me that too. Hope it's okay."

"It's fine, I don't mind. Yeah I did. Mostly stayed at the other end though, but we ain't going there today. The gators are actin' weird."

"Right, that poor little boy they ate", Zoe said. Misty assumed Cordelia had told her.

Kyle startled. "Wait what?"

"Marie Laveau's son." Zoe told him the story. Kyle eyes widened as the short tale of horror went on and at the end they filled with confusion. "Sure he's dead? I mean the rumors says she can heal him."

Misty looked up with a start when he said that, but Zoe beat her to it:

"Laveau? What do you mean she can heal him? Like Misty?" They found a good spot in the shade and sat down. Misty listened to them talk, more alert now than before. She had heard similar rumors from some of the drunks at the bar and she remembered that Fiona had hinted at the same thing some months ago. Fiona had said Marie was presumed to be in contact with Papa Legba and the underworld, but Misty never believed she had gotten her abilities that way. This was different, it had to be. If not Marie would have acted the same way Misty did, whenever she found injury. There was no ignoring damage like that. Yet, Marie had only cried.

"Yeah, or no, not like that I think", Kyle said. "Remember when I told you those rumors I heard from a friend of mine? He said they call Marie Laveau the Voodoo Queen or something. She can do things, like yeah, voodoo or something."

"But voodoo is not healing, Kyle. And I don't think that's true."

Kyle shrugged. He absentmindedly picked a leaf of the nearest bush and then suddenly shot a guilty glance at Misty, as if he thought she might take offence at him stripping the woods like that. She did a little, but the conversation stole her focus. Kyle said: "Okay, I'm just saying that's what they call her. And I figured too, but then Misty here… So why not?" Now they were both looking at her and at first Misty didn't know what to say. She never thought she could possibly be the only strange thing in the world, but this was the first time she had heard of anything else supernatural. And from what she knew of Papa Legba and the deals he made, she didn't like the prospect of anyone borrowing his powers.

Finally, she shrugged and said: "I don't know if the boy is alive, he looked pretty dead to me. I hope he rests." She didn't say more and Kyle nodded and made a grimace as if to say 'fair enough'.

They stayed quiet for a while. Misty laid back and listened for sounds. There weren't much today, but occasionally a bird would sing and flutter about. It surprised her, now that the weather was less hot. But if all the animals of the forest had decided to sleep today, maybe it was okay that Cage wasn't with her this time.

"I'll go look for some berries or something to eat, I'm hungry", Kyle announced and got up.

"You're always hungry", Zoe teased and commented on how he could never sit still.

Kyle only grinned and said: "You wanna come?"

"No, I'll sit here for a while."

"If you find somethin' you don't know, don't eat it", Misty added. "I learned that the hard way. And careful not to go far. We ain't alone out here." She then closed her eyes again. Kyle promised and wandered off.

"So you really never get sick? What if you ate something poisonous?"

Misty opened one eye to find Zoe looking at her with curiosity. It never ended, it seemed. She chuckled and said: "Think I did sometimes. But no, I don't get sick. Hurts my stomach a little, but I don't think it's like that for everyone."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure."

She hesitated for a while. Fidgeted with her hair, while searching for a way to start her questions. Misty sat up, sensing that the conversation was turning more serious. "Okay… Say Cordelia wanted to move to like, she's from Boston right? Say she wanted to move there? Would you leave everything here and go with her so you didn't have to be apart?"

"I did. Don't live in my swamp no more, right?"

"Oh, right. But like if she wanted to move to a whole another state or something, would you do it?"

Misty eyed her. She already knew the answer, but she wasn't sure this was really about her. "Why do you ask?"

Zoe started fidgeting with her hair again. "Um, Kyle said he wants to go to New York for school. He says it's going to be just like when I go away for college, but I'm afraid that once he leaves he'll never want to come back here. He doesn't have anyone but me tying him here. His mom…" She trailed of and her eyes wavered as if she was unsure of what to say. "Well, she's not… she's weird. And she doesn't treat him right. She, um… touched him once. Please don't tell him I told you this, I just need you to know that I understand his need to get out. But now I fear he wants to _live_ in New York, or anywhere else really, but I have my family here. I don't know what to do, because I don't want to lose him. What do you think I should do?" The young girl stared at Misty with pleading eyes and Misty felt uncomfortable at the sudden pressure of the conversation.

"I can't tell you what to do, Zoe. You gotta decide that for yourself. I don't know 'bout family, except Delia and Cage is mine and wherever they goes, I go. Even if I had to not see my swamp. But I know 'bout not wantin' to leave either."

Zoe chuckled with hopelessness. "That doesn't really help." She smiled a sad smile then. "I only have my mom and dad, and I guess they could come visit. But I don't have to decide right now, do I?"

"No, you're still here for the summer, ain't you? So you still have-"

A scream of terror cut Misty's sentence in half, shrill and echoing from the depth of the woods. It took Misty a few seconds to recognize the scream, but Zoe froze up at once. Then a roar followed, then another scream and Zoe let out a whimper of panic. She motioned to get up, but Misty stopped her, a firm grasp on her arm.

"Don't run. Climb a tree. Now."

"What is it?!"

Misty stared towards the spot where the roar had come from, trying to determine if it was coming this way. Suddenly she understood why it was so quiet today.

"I think it's a bear."

Zoe whimpered again and started to cry.

"Zoe, _climb_."

Misty pushed her towards the nearest tree and waited until she had climbed up and out of view, before she moved herself. Out the corner of her eye, she saw movement of a large animal, something that would be close to her height if it stood beside her. She looked up at Zoe and motioned for her to stay put before she moved to find another tree. She constantly calculated the movement of the bear, trying to figure out if she could get around it without agitating it. She had to get to Kyle, see how bad the damage was. Because there was damage. The first scream was of terror, but the second had been of pain.

The bear came into view and Misty climbed the first tree that allowed her. She climbed on the back so the bear wouldn't see her and sat tight, hoping Zoe would control her crying. The bears of the Louisiana swamp were far too big to climb the trees, but they were the masters on the ground.

The bear wandered around for a bit. It didn't look like it searched for food, which worried Misty more than anything. Rather, it looked like it was out for a stroll. It took a while before it started to wander off again, minutes in which Misty begged for two things: That Kyle was still alive and that Zoe wasn't hotheaded enough to hop down and check.

Once she felt it safe, she snuck down from the tree and ran towards the place where the scream had come from. The bear was far gone, but the sinister hum in her mind didn't stop. The air tasted wrong again.

As soon as she saw him, she knew she was out of luck. He lay flat on the ground and his head turned a certain way, which could only mean that it was no longer rightfully attached to his body. She went to him anyway and kneeled. The damage called to her, begged her. It was her siren again, but it was a broken song, because there was nothing she could do. When she put her hand to his chest, her body told her the same thing.

A lump gathered in her throat. His eyes were open and the glossiness held the last impression of his terror. She could only hope that it had been quick. By the looks of it, it had. The claw marks at his severed throat spoke of one fatal blow. The bear had taken a piece of his left arm too and there was barely any hand left. The grass was wet all around him and colored dark in the pool of blood.

"Kyle…" She whispered with tears in the corners of her eyes. She should have known the forest was acting out. Amidst it all, she couldn't help but be grateful Cordelia had chosen today of all days to be difficult.

With a gentle hand, she closed his eyes. She had nothing more to offer.

"Kyle!" Zoe came out of nowhere and threw herself down beside Kyle's dead body. Her hands and dress were soaked with red in seconds. "No Kyle, no no no!"

"Zoe you have to be quiet or the bear's gonna hear you."

"He can't be dead! Oh God-" Her voice turned so shrill it broke on its own and she sobbed into her hands. Her fingertips left lines of blood on her face and in her hair, smeared it until she looked as if she had been attacked too. Misty shushed her gently, while listening for movement through the woods. She had learned to scare smaller animals away, bluff with her size, but she was no match for a bear.

Zoe suddenly stopped and she looked up at Misty with a manic light in her eyes. The red of her face and the tears streaming down her cheeks, making lines of diluted blood like warpaint, made her look downright insane for a second. "You can heal him, can't you? You can bring him back like you did with Cordelia's ex-husband!"

"Zoe…" Misty said with a defeated voice and hated how the light fell in the young girl's eyes. "I can't put his head back on. Even if I got his heart started, he would die again in seconds. I can't help him."

Zoe's eyes filled with tears again and she gripped around Kyle's remaining hand and held it to her chest. She mumbled something into his pale fist.

"We better get outta-"

"The Voodoo Queen", Zoe said, louder this time. She looked up again and some of the light had returned. She still looked manic. "Kyle just said it. Marie Laveau. She can help!"

"I don't know, Zoe…"

"She has to!" Zoe yelled and Misty shushed her. Zoe didn't listen. Instead she kissed Kyle's hand, wiped her face clean of tears and got to her feet. "I know where her sister's saloon is. Please keep him safe. I'll get her. Please stay with him."

"I don't think-"

"Please!"

"Okay." Misty held up her hands, prayed it would be enough to make Zoe quiet. "Okay, I'll stay. But be careful at least, Zoe. Don't make noise."

Zoe had started running already.

O0O

This wasn't the first deal Marie Laveau had ever made with Papa Legba.

The first time she had given up a good worker for the deal. And he had agreed, he wanted the same revenge. She had agreed to let Papa Legba have his soul for the price of getting back at one Delphine Lalaurie. She had it out for Marie's community, she possessed a hatred Marie had had far too much experience with to tolerate. Maybe she would have if Lalaurie hadn't openly harassed them. If she had kept her hatred to herself, maybe Marie would never have made that deal. But she did and her worker had agreed. He had been the personal target, his own brother beaten up by a man payed by Lalaurie, and he wanted to get back at that pale, hateful hippo of a woman just as much as she did. Only she had the means. She had learned how to contact the underworld. And so she did. A servant for a servant Papa Legba had said. So Madame Lalaurie became Delphine, the personal maid of the house along with her daughter, who was too young to go anywhere alone.

Marie quite liked the daughter. She adapted and she was open-minded. She didn't share her mamas shameless opinions. She was always treated equal and she was never confined to the wooden box as Delphine often was, when Marie had had enough of her behavior. And there was a certain satisfaction in watching her face when she was pulled from that box forty eight hours later, all sweaty and even uglier than usual.

But there was no satisfaction that made up for the price this time. She had been careless with her deals, because the first one had been so costless for her compared to this.

It still didn't work. All the voodoo powers the underworld could give her and she still couldn't do it. She stared at her son's empty face. The emotion had seeped out, the eyes turned blank. He was clean of blood, his little body put back together with stitches, but he was a human doll, nothing more.

"Marie? You in there?"

"Leave me alone, Chantal, I'm workin'!"

She could almost hear her sister sigh through the door. Or at least imagine her do it. "There's a crying girl in the saloon, sayin' she needa talk to you. It ain't about a haircut."

"Let her cry!"

"She got blood all over her face, sayin' her boyfriend got killed by a bear in the swamp and she wants you to voodoo him back alive."

"It can't be done!"

Chantal knocked hard on the door and Marie went to tear it open. "What?"

Her sister didn't react to the aggression, merely looked at Marie with a knowing expression on her face. "It could be practice", she said.

Marie met the mess of a teenage girl by the desk in the saloon. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks covered in blood and she looked at Marie like she expected miracles. Her face reminded Marie of a far too recent pain and she almost went back into her room at the sight. But the girl didn't deserve to know this feeling and Marie simply said: "I ain't makin' promises. But show me the way. And somebody give the girl a damn towel!"

" _Thank you_ ", the girl whispered and followed Marie out, after hastily wiping her face with the wetted paper towel she was handed. As they hurried to the swamp the girl, Zoe, rushed through the explanation. Her words were chaotic and muffled by her crying, but Marie caught the most of it. She was oddly relieved it was a bear attack and not the gators again. She wasn't sure she could endure another meeting with them. She wondered in her own mind what it was she expected she could do for this girl. Zoe acted like she was heaven sent, when really she had gotten her gift through death. That should say it all and it had so far.

"It's through here", Zoe said and rushed forward. They made their way through the trees and Marie caught the sight of two people, one sitting with their back turned, hidden in shade and the other lying by the foot of a tree, unmoving. That had to be the boyfriend.

As they closed in, the live one looked up and Marie stopped dead.

"You", she hissed.

Misty looked up. She looked sad and lost, just as she had the day she handed Marie her dead child. Blood on her face and hands as well, as if she was the wild, murderous animal herself. She had had the nerve then to say that it wasn't her gator friends' fault. Maybe she was friends with bears too.

"If you think I'm gon' help you after all you and your family did to me-"

"Please", the Goode girl begged. "This got nothin' to do with me. Zoe ain't part of it."

"She knows you. That's bad enough."

The crying girl looked from one to the other with utter confusion on her face. "Please", she said and looked at Marie again. "I don't know what's going on, but if you can save him, won't you please? He means the world to me." Her voice broke. She started to sob and it crept beneath Marie's skin. An internal battle started, a rushed debate with one voice meaner than the other. The girl associated with the wrong people and she would pay too. Marie wanted to leave them, but Chantal's voice in the back of her mind reminded her he could be practice.

He would be practice alright.

"Fine. But you two needa go. You, girl, go to my sister's saloon again. Tell them all to come here. And you two stay far away."

Zoe sniffled and said: "Please let me stay with him. I'm all he has."

"You want your beau alive or no? I said go! My people will contact you when it's done."

Misty got up and started pushing at Zoe, who refused to move.

"Come one, Zoe, nothin' we can do." She looked at Marie with far too much kindness in her gaze. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet", Marie said in a cold voice. She didn't move until the both of them was out of sight. Then she got to work.

O0O

Hank wavered. Now that he was here, the prospect of facing Cordelia was abruptly terrifying. He felt like a cowardly boy who had run away from duty. He should have stayed with her and he knew it.

Everyone around him had encouraged him to take this trip, talk to Cordelia, make amends or do whatever he could to help. As far as his group for recovering addicts knew the paper filter that hung over his head was just the alcohol and his bad conscience for leaving his wife. They knew she had cheated and they knew she had a psychotic break, but they didn't know why. No one knew Hank had come back from the dead and quite possibly left his rescuer in his place. He had been in a car crash and had been dead for maybe a minute or so before someone had done CPR on him. Maybe it was Misty in the story, he couldn't remember now. Maybe he said that because it came close the guilt he felt. He was the reason she was probably dead now. But it had been her choice. He reminded himself of that.

Still he was afraid to go in there.

He spent most of the day wandering around the city, but avoiding the places he used to visit. All his regular bars were off limits. To be honest, all of them were. He was supposed to avoid temptation. So he stayed on the streets and knew no one would recognize him here. In reality, he didn't have many friends in the five years or so he had lived here. And he couldn't visit those he had, because everyone thought he was dead. Kaylee had been good that way. She had been his friend, his comfort and his distraction when he needed it. But he didn't love her. He thought maybe he could, but not as long as Cordelia still haunted him like this. They both knew that. Not that the knowledge made the breakup any easier. A life lesson: Never break up with a pyromaniac and then leave your apartment, he thought and laughed. Just never, fucking stupid idea.

He hadn't expected it to look different, but it _felt_ different, the city. He felt like a visitor instead of an inhabitant. He was, given that he currently stayed at a hotel, but he thought he would feel a sense of belonging. Yet he felt like a stranger coming here for the first time.

When the time passed dinner, he had worked up enough courage to visit the Goode mansion. He had spent the day dreading the possibility that he would randomly run into Cordelia or her dragon mother somewhere in town. He didn't plan for any big entrance, but he didn't want it to feel like he was backing out either.

There was light in there. So someone must be living and breathing behind the threatening exterior of Fiona's house. With a rising heartbeat he took the steps up the isle and took one deep breath before he knocked. Here goes nothing, he thought.

At first nothing happened. There was a second, in which Hank wanted to use that silence as an excuse to run away and face this another day, but then steps sounded on the other site. All he had time to register was that it wasn't heels and he was a little relieved.

The door opened and Misty appeared.

It was hard to say which face displayed the biggest surprise. It wasn't until he saw her that he realized how firmly he had believed her to be dead. Yet there she was. For a few seconds they just stared at each other. Hank became increasingly unsure of what to say and Misty's gaze grew increasingly spiteful. He hated to admit that he also felt relieved from some of the guilt now that he knew she had apparently survived. He didn't have the mind to figure out how.

A call from somewhere in the depths of the house: "Who is it?" Cordelia's voice. A rock the size of North America fell from his heart at the sound. She sounded well. Steps followed but Hank was less nervous now. The worst seemed over already.

"It's… Hank", Misty said as if she couldn't quite believe it. The door ripped open and there was she was. He had forgotten how beautiful she was. In his stories she had taken on a much more hideous form in order for him to rationalize his own behavior. And maybe Kaylee had let him do it as well. But she was gorgeous and there was light in her eyes. Nothing like the last time he looked at them. He had also forgotten how much he liked that weird two-part colored eye thing.

Right now her eyes shone with astonishment.

"Hank? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Um, came to say hi I guess. See if you were okay."

"After three years?" Misty's voice was hard and cold and her stare made him feel like he had walked into a wolf's den.

Cordelia gently coaxed Misty's stare away with a hand on her arm. They looked at each other and a quick, silent argument went on between them. Then Cordelia stepped forward and closed the door behind her, leaving Misty on the inside. Hank made space for her. For a second they just looked at each other.

"You look good", Hank finally said. "And well. Are you?"

Cordelia smiled. "I am. And thank you. How are you?"

"I'm…" You know fine, except my crazy ex burned down my apartment and up until now I thought Misty was dead, and the fact that she's not, but alive and breathing and with you makes me hate her a little bit again. "I'm good. I should have come by sooner, but I wasn't sure if I should, and… yeah."

"I'm glad you did. It's nice to see you." Her voice was the softest thing. It made him want to pull her close and it was the strangest feeling, knowing he wasn't allowed to anymore.

"Yeah you too. So are you… I guess I'm trying to ask, what happened that night? After I left? I thought Misty was-" He cut his own sentence off, because the light in Cordelia's eyes changed abruptly. He realized that it still hurt her, whatever had gone down.

"So did we. But she found her way back somehow. And so did I. It took a while, but I'm okay now. I have actually been off antidepressants for three years now." She said it with a proud smile, she tried to hide but couldn't. He saw no reason to, but was too awed to think to tell her that.

"Really? That's so great, Cordelia." He wavered again. He felt like she was hiding something. A secret dragged at the end of her sentence, he could hear it in her voice. It had been a while, but he still knew her after all. Instead of asking head-on, he pointed to the door. "So why all the secrecy? I mean, I know what the house looks like."

She looked back at the door as if her secret was written there, and then turned to him again, suddenly nervous.

"A lot has changed since you left. I should have reached out too, but like you, I didn't know if it was appropriate. But you should know."

Her unease made him nervous. He felt his heartbeat quicken a pace. "What? What should I know?"

She hesitated for just a moment, before she looked him in the eye and said: "You have a son."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Sorry Kyle had to be collateral again, guess he just can't catch a break, the poor guy. Anyway. I would love to hear your thoughts on it :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for all the nice comments! It really makes my day!**

* * *

The shock blossomed in his face in slow motion. It was like watching a portrait being painted in fast forward and now the disbelief lay in thick colors on his face. For a second or two he just stared at her, increasingly confused. There wasn't much of anything else in his face. Just the surprise. Cordelia had feared anger would come second, but nothing came.

"I have a kid?" Even his voice was pure shock.

She nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner", she said again.

Something seemed to dawn him then. For a while he was lost in some thought and then he looked at her. "You tried didn't you? That night? And I shut you down, because you told me to leave."

She nodded again, remembering the hesitation to tell him and the guilt from refraining to go through with it.

He blinked as if to clear the slate, to let the message sink in properly. Then he eyed her again and said: "But I thought you, um, couldn't? But so I guess that treatment worked?"

"Yes that", Cordelia started to fidget uncomfortably with her shirt, "or perhaps Misty…" Thankfully, he held up a hand to stop her before she had to endure the embarrassment of finishing her sentence.

"I don't need to know."

She nodded in understanding. In reality the issues of her infidelity was only buried because he was, and even though that fight was over, it was still mortifying to speak of.

Hank broke the uncomfortable silence: "Can I see him?"

This was inevitable of course. For a long time Cordelia had only thought of the wrong in keeping this from him, and not the consequences of letting him know. But now that the moment had arrived she had an answer prepared:

"You can. But you can't tell him you're his father." Hank shot her a disapproving look. "This is all very sudden. I don't want to confuse him before we have this settled."

"What's there to settle?"

"Hank…"

"No I know, it's fine." He nodded to let her know he understood. He was different, she noticed. Far less emotional. The anger seemed father from the surface than ever, though he had every reason to keep it up front. He might have refrained from checking up on her health – and she really couldn't blame him for avoiding her in that state – but she had withheld something much bigger than simple care. With all that had happened, she thought it best to spare Cage the drama, but looking at this calm man, she used to know, she feared that had been a mistake.

So she let him in.

Misty stood waiting on the other side of the door. Her eyes went straight to Cordelia's and Cordelia let her know that everything was okay. Misty's gaze said she wouldn't believe that just yet, but she abandoned her protecting stance in the hall and went into the living room to Cage and Fiona. They followed her.

Hank came in last, walking like a stranger in his old house.

Fiona wasn't late to make a comment. "Well", she said with a taunting smile. "Look what the cat dragged in." Misty must have warned her. This was a front at which they could finally unite. Cordelia wasn't sure which of them hated Hank the most. It bothered her that they did, but she didn't have anything to say against it. She felt like protecting him today, but she couldn't find any words to counter her mother.

"Fiona", was all Hank said. His voice was even and devoid of that anger, which used to simmer in his words, whenever Fiona provoked him. Again, he surprised her with his calmness. There didn't used to be so much of it, that she could think of. But perhaps it was because he was always so agitated towards the end of their marriage. Or maybe the shock had sedated him. She didn't know and she didn't ask.

Instead, she went to sit down beside Cage. He had already glanced at the stranger and now looked up at her, question in his eyes.

"Cage, I want you to meet Hank. He's a friend." Her boy followed her motion and looked up at Hank again. Cage greeted him as he did any other stranger: With a shy smile and a tiny wave. He was too young to realize the similarities in their faces. They were vague, but now that they were in the same room, Cordelia noticed them. Like his chin. His chin was definitely his father's.

Hank crouched down in from him, his gaze shifting between Cordelia and the boy.

"Cage, huh? Hey little guy." He stretched a hand out to meet Cage's little fist and Cordelia felt a sense of longing. She already had exactly the family she had always wanted, even when she didn't know it, but something about the picture she saw right now just fit. She found herself wishing she could somehow include Hank. He was a part of it too and not just biologically. Cage deserved to know his father. But she wouldn't give into her wishes just yet. Hank was a stranger to her in a way. So much of him felt the same, so much that she could slip right into the comfort they had a long time ago, but she made herself realize that she had no idea what the years apart might have done to him. And more importantly, what coming back from the dead had done to him. Because he _was_ different.

For that reason she didn't let him stay long. This wasn't the time either. Both Misty and Fiona kept quiet the whole time, hovering like two threatening sculptures of stone. As if rays of cold seeped from their bodies and into the atmosphere. She knew Hank felt it too. After half an hour, she led him out into the hall and promised that they would find another day for him to see his son.

On his way out, Hank lingered in the door for a moment, hesitant to leave.

"Do you ever think about me?" He asked.

Cordelia paused for a second, unsure of how honest she should be. In his eyes she found longing, not for truth, but for her to say what he wanted to hear.

"Sometimes", she admitted. "Though I try not to. I'm in a good place now and the end of us was… stressful."

He looked crestfallen for a moment, but cleaned it off with a smile. "I think about you a lot."

She didn't know what to answer. Hank didn't wait for one, but gave her arm a gentle squeeze and left the doorway.

Cordelia closed the door and went to the kitchen. A glass of water could maybe clear her head, while she tried to sort out how much of what she told Hank was just make-believe.

She didn't get to think long before Misty stepped in, looking less cold now and far more angry.

Cordelia sat the glass down and took in her anger. "I know you don't approve of him, you don't have to say it."

Misty scoffed, a rare habit she had picked up from Fiona. "Approve? I don't want him here at all."

"He has a right to see his own son, Misty. I can't deny him that."

Her eyes narrowed and her tone grew harsh with disbelief. "He hurt you. I don't just mean those bruises on your arm. This ain't his home no more."

"You're right, it's not", Cordelia agreed. "It's ours. But that doesn't change anything of what I just said."

Misty growled and turned to leave, when Cordelia stopped her, grasping her wrist to hold her back.

"Please don't be mad at me for this. I made a quick decision and I should have talked to you first, but it wouldn't be right to deny him this. I promise he won't come here." Misty was about to respond, when the front door burst open and Zoe came running in. Both of them immediately forgot their place in the conversation, as they took in the sight of the young girl. There was blood on her hands and tears streaming down her cheeks. She stood panting and her wild eyes scanned the room, flickered about until they found Misty. Then she said, with a voice trembling in fear:

"It's Kyle! You have to help me!"

O0O

Misty stood with one foot planted in the hall and one in the kitchen; split midway between two problems. Cordelia's hand was still around her wrist, pleading in its touch, but Misty's eyes were caught by Zoe's expression of absolute horror.

"What's wrong with him, Zoe? Is he back?" She ignored Cordelia's shocked gaze burning her right cheek.

"He um…" Zoe started, her voice shaking so hard she could barely get the words out. "God, I think he killed her… That woman from the saloon came to get me, said he already left then I went to his house, and… and there was so much blood and I just _ran_." She looked into space, as if she was talking to only herself.

"God", Misty heard Cordelia whisper. Her grip tightened around Misty's wrist. They both went to Zoe's side, their fight forgotten. They lost contact as Cordelia gently drew the trembling girl into her arms. Zoe barely registered it, too upset to move her quivering figure.

"Where is he now?" Misty asked. "Who did he hurt?"

"His mom."

Cordelia's eyes snapped up, pierced Misty's over Zoe's heard. They were full of terror. Misty could see her internal fight to keep composure for Zoe's sake, a battle she would soon lose.

Just then, Fiona came out in the hall with Cage dragging at her heels.

"What is going on out here?"

"Fiona, stay out of it! Get back in the room with Cage", Misty snapped and received a shocked look in return, one not without scorn.

"If you think-"

"Not now, mother, _please_."

Fiona looked from one to the other and to Misty's surprise she tugged at Cage's hand and turned around. "Come boy, your mothers are too busy for us, it seems."

Misty ignored the last comment and turned to Zoe. "I'll go find him."

"Misty, don't you think we should call the police-", Cordelia started, before Zoe spun out of her embrace and begged her not to.

"You don't understand! He's not himself! He was dead and now he's _this_ , we can't call the police!"

"Shh, I know, Zoe. Misty told me. But if he's dangerous..." Misty had come home that night with clothes full of blood and while she had much rather spared Cordelia, she had to tell her about the bear attack and how Laveau's presumed powers might bring him back. That was all Misty had to share at that point, yet Cordelia suddenly talked like she was on top of the situation. Misty couldn't help thinking this was how she acted with Cage and all her kids at the school.

But she couldn't help this kid.

"I'll be careful", Misty said. "Trust me." She didn't expect an answer in words, only looked into Cordelia's eyes as she asked. Saw the torn debate and finally acceptance.

"I'll go with you", Zoe said and continued before Cordelia could protest again: "I think he still knows me. And you don't know the way." There was still tears in her eyes and fright in her face, but her look was determined. Misty nodded and said to Cordelia:

"I'll keep her safe."

They left the house and broke into a run. None of them spoke, only ran as if time was eating away at the ground they tread on. Kyle's mother's tiny house was at the outskirts of town as well, a little further south. Out where the trees of the forest wasn't as close and the landscape looked more broken by the harsh heat. It was a grey stoned house, one that looked ramshackle and drained by age. The door stood gaping, tattling of the intrusion, and a dark hall revealed itself behind it. No light was on, no life breathed from it. The air tasted the same as it did the last time with the scent of death hanging in it.

"What if he left?" Zoe whispered as they got closer.

"I don't think so", Misty said. She didn't know how she knew, only that she did. The two of them walked carefully towards the house, into the darkness.

The house was dead quiet except for a low grunting somewhere. They followed the noise, blinking to make their eyes adjust. Misty's adjusted quickly and her instincts set in. Living in the city hadn't robbed her of them yet and she crouched a little, moved her center of gravity in case she needed a quick escape. She felt Zoe follow her move behind her and they snuck towards the end of the house, from where the noise originated. It was a human grunt, yet not. There was no words in it, no humanity, yet it was a human voice.

Misty turned the last corner and the bathroom revealed itself. The blood made a glaring contrast to the white tiles on the walls. There he sat, crouched over a body, grunting as he hands smashed a rock from the garden down on what used to be a face.

Her body didn't speak. She was gone.

His body didn't speak to Misty either. It spoke _at_ her. Mocked her. This was the first time she had ever encountered supernatural abilities like her own and what she found was an opponent. A complete opposite and it hissed at her without words. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

He was almost unrecognizable. His short blonde curly hair was full of dirt and blood, his naked upper body covered in stiches from more cuts than she remembered the bear had given him and his movements were crude, stunted and slow. But his face was the most different. When he turned to look there was no light in it anymore. It was a waxy mask of something unloving. Expressionless, blank, perhaps slightly confused. As if his body drove him on, but his brain registered none of the occurrences. Like a marionette of human flesh.

Behind her, Zoe threw up.

The noise made the creature of Kyle cringe and his hands stopped coming down on the skull of his dead mother. He looked beyond Misty towards the girl behind her and a fraction of emotion flickered over his face. Then he rose to his feet, slowly and insecure. He was taller than Misty in his full height and his shunted appearance made him look heavier. He took an effortful step towards them.

"Kyle…" Zoe whispered. "Please come back."

He growled for an answer. It sounded like it was meant as an answer to her words, but there was no meaning Misty could find. Every part of her instincts screamed danger, except for one. The hum of magic in her made her stay. She had promised to protect Zoe. This was not Kyle anymore and she didn't trust this voodoo creation. And something drew her to it, the hint of injury which called her to the waters again.

Kyle took another step and made a vague hissing sound. His glasslike eyes were still fixated on Zoe.

"He knows me", Zoe whispered with a painful kind of hope in her voice and she tread closer. Misty stopped her, before she got past her.

"Careful", she said and as soon as she spoke Kyle looked at her. She couldn't tell if it was out of recognition or something more sinister, but a new flicker of emotion entered his face. This was closer to hate. He snarled, a deep throaty sound and lunged at her.

Misty registered Zoe's scream, and the movement of her own hands, but nothing more, before her palm touched Kyle's cold chest. A stomach turning sensation spread through her entire body at once and the skin of her hands prickled with fire, the kind of fire one would feel as their hands stuck to ice for too long. The trance poked at her mind, but energy didn't flow out of her this time. It came into her.

"Stop!" Zoe pushed her away and Misty collapsed into the doorframe, groggy and disoriented. Kyle tumbled to the ground with a look of heavy sedation on his face.

When Misty found her vision again, she saw Zoe crouch down beside Kyle, who appeared significantly more dazed than before. He stared back at Zoe, pacified and unmoving, but still alive in his own sense. Misty wanted to stop her, but the thought hit her that Kyle didn't seem so threatening all of a sudden. Misty looked down at her hands and tried to understand what had happened. It felt different, as if she had taken something away instead of giving it. But it wasn't life that she took. She still felt the last of it simmer in her body like nausea, slowly fading. It felt like she had taken death into herself, not enough to kill her, but enough to make her feel sick.

"Be careful, Zoe", she said and Zoe looked up with hard, hurt eyes.

"Did you try to hurt him?"

Misty shook her head. "No. I don't know what happened." Zoe stared at her for a moment longer, before she accepted. Then she gently reached out and touched Kyle's cheek. His eyes followed the movement with unease, but he didn't move away.

"He seems calmer than before. I think you calmed him down. Kyle, are you okay?"

He tried to speak, but only the slow grunting came out. It was less agitated now, more like an insisting hum. He reached out and touched a strand of Zoe's hair, ran it between his fingers, smeared it with half clotted blood. Zoe sniffled and put her hand on top of his. It made him hum again.

Zoe turned to Misty again, eyes watered up with tears. "I'm sorry I pushed you. It just looked like… I don't know, like he was going to faint. I got scared."

Misty shook it off. "Don't worry 'bout it. But we needa go, or they're gonna take him away when they see this mess."

Shock came back to the young girl's eyes in an instant, as if she had for a moment forgotten all about the dead body by the wall in the small bathroom.

"It's too crowded by his own apartment. There's no way I can get him there. I'll take him to my parents. I'll just tell them he's sick. They are really busy at the moment, so they won't notice much."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Zoe-"

"You don't decide! He's _my_ boyfriend! You wouldn't let me take Cordelia away, would you?" There was a tiny fire in her eyes, an unwavering determination. She shot a glance at Kyle. She couldn't say what had happened to him, but the way he looked at Zoe made Misty think that she was safe. Cordelia would throw a fit over her leaving Zoe alone with this undead shade of Kyle, but Cordelia didn't understand these things like Misty did.

"No, you're right. But we don't know what Laveau did to him. I'll come visit once, try to find out, okay?"

Zoe nodded. "Yes, okay. Thank you."

"I'll help you get him to your parents' house. We gotta move now."

They worked together to get Kyle on his feet. On first try it seemed he had forgotten how to stand, but slowly he found footing and only swayed lightly in their hold.

"People will just think he's drunk, with the way he's walking", Zoe said and tried to smile through the tears. Misty agreed and thought of the way Jackson walked home on days where he had a little too much. He could stay on his feet, but he swayed. Now that she thought about it, the way Kyle looked right now wasn't much different from most of her customers. Except for the blood and the lines of stiches around his neck, where his head appeared to have been sowed back on. There were stitches around the hand hanging around Zoe's shoulder as well and two fingers missing. She wondered if Zoe had seen it, but decided not to bring it up.

Misty felt a battle going on within her as she helped carry Kyle to Zoe's house. Her ability wanted to touch Kyle, but it was different from before. Injury used to speak to her, plead her to fix it and she often did so without second thought. This wound in Kyle's entire being spoke to her as well, but with fear. It wanted her to stay away, to keep her hands off it. She recalled the first touch of his cold skin, how she had reacted without thought and started to suck whatever pseudo life Kyle now had out of him. She realized that whatever alternate state of living Kyle was now in, her ability wanted to take it away. It felt wrong, it made her nauseous. She had to constantly tell herself not to give in to the urge to take this undeath out of him. Because she feared if she did, there wouldn't be _any_ kind of life left in him.

By the time they got to Zoe's house, Misty was so exhausted from the inner fight that she left shortly after making sure Zoe could handle the rest. She simply couldn't keep her thoughts straight anymore and only hoped Zoe would be okay. She was borderline sleepwalking on the way back to the Goode mansion. The night was black now and it made her feel like she was walking within some awfully heavy dream.

She pushed through the front door and barely registered the scraping of a chair. Seconds after, Cordelia came running out into the hall.

"Misty, are you okay, love? I was so worried."

Misty didn't answer, but instead pulled her close and kissed her. Cordelia didn't object, but gave back like she had an equal wish to disappear in it. All the frustration and anxiety, the fights and the nausea vanished for a moment and Misty felt like she could breathe right again. The air in her mind cleared and it was only the physical exhaustion that lingered.

Cordelia broke the kiss and looked up. Cupped Misty's face and rubbed her thumbs over her cheekbones. "What happened out there? You look so pale. Is Zoe okay?"

She gave a faint nod. "Let's just sleep now, okay? Tell you tomorrow."

The worry didn't withdraw from her eyes, but Cordelia nodded anyway. "Okay." She led Misty to bed, pulled the covers over her and as soon as Misty felt the other woman lie down beside her, she was gone.

O0O

Kyle sat in the corner of her bedroom and looked around with wild eyes, as if a bedroom was an entirely foreign and threatening concept to him. She knew he recognized her when he looked at her, but everything else seemed to have slipped out of his mind.

Zoe sat down in front of him, put a gentle hand to his face and directed his gaze at her.

"Kyle, can you say my name?"

He looked into her eyes and made the same hissing sound he had made all night. It sounded like he was trying to wrap his mind around the Z of her name and she clung to that hope.

"Kyle, do you understand me? Nod if you do."

His glasslike eyes held her captive, but nothing changed in them. _Come on Kyle, please_ , she thought with all the strength of her spirit.

At last a muscle twitched at his mouth and he gave her a slow nod.

"Oh thank God", Zoe gasped and threw her arms around him. She forgot to be careful, for a moment she even forgot that he had killed his own mother. Yet she was nothing like his mother and he would never harm her. She felt the dazed movement of a hand on her back and almost started crying again.

She moved back, looked at him again and wondered just what Misty had done to him. She had only seen her use her strange ability twice and those two times had looked so different. With Cage, it had been a smooth exchange, a peaceful act and Cage had smiled in the end. This had almost looked like a battle.

And now he was calmer. The blind viciousness that had caused her to flee the house in the first place seemed gone for now. Perhaps whatever forces Laveau had used to revive him were much different from Misty's. She had never met Hank, but now she wished she had, so she could compare. Two resurrections, only one of them had committed murder as far as she knew. Murder. It was too much. She couldn't bear it.

So she pushed it away. She ran a hand through Kyle's hair. She would have to wash him before her parents returned tomorrow. If he didn't look so barbaric, maybe this ball of fear would vanish from her chest. She hated to look at him and be scared. He used to be the sweetest, most harmless guy she knew. She wondered if that boy was still in there.

"Kyle, we need to get you a shower, before my parents come ho-"

At the mention of 'parents', Kyle started to whine and thrash around in the corner, damaged hands banging into the wall and feet kicking the floor like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Kyle, what is it? Kyle!" He stopped and looked up at her with his blue eyes widened. "You don't want my parents to be here?"

He shook his head violently.

"But they live here! And you have to for now too. I can't get you all the way to the apartment, there are too many people there. People that know you. Listen to me, we are going to tell them that you're sick and we can't get hold of your mom-" at the word, Kyle started yelling and kicking his feet even harder and Zoe could barely outshout him, let alone avoid the thrashing arms and legs "- so you have to stay here for a while. It'll be okay Kyle, _please calm down_."

"No! No mom!" He shouted and Zoe stopped dead.

"You can speak again?"

"No mom, no mom, no mom!" Kyle continued to shout with slurred yet understandable words and he started to bang his head back against the wall, so hard she thought his skull might crack.

"Okay okay, no mom, no mom Kyle!" She had to yell it twice before he caught on and finally quieted. He stopped banging his head into the wall and mumbled one last time:

"No mom."

Zoe nodded and stroked his face. This was far too much. She had a brief sensation of watching herself from the outside, gazing down at this young woman, barely past her teenage years, suddenly burdened with this creature of a person she used to know. This huge responsibility she suddenly found herself carrying terrified her, but she loved him. And he was still in there. She could bring him out again, she knew it. It would just require some time.

She started by changing him out of his bloodied, torn clothes. Now she was determined to bring the human back to the surface of this creature. She got to work, too preoccupied to notice the shape of a person in the window. And when she turned around to find Kyle's spare clothes, the window was empty.


	7. Chapter 7

Hank watched his son run around on the playground and tried to grasp the fact that it was _his_ kid. He looked so much like Cordelia, Hank thought. There was barely any of him in the little boy's features. It was almost as if his biology had known Hank wasn't going to be around. Well he hoped to change that now. He hadn't expected to be given this reason to stay. He had imagined that in the event Cordelia wasn't half mad, she might agree to see him once in a while and a little part of him had hoped they could rebuild something from that. But this was completely different. This was actual biological proof that he still belonged here.

He watched Cordelia play with their child from a bench at a short distance and for a moment, he pushed the other woman out of his mind. He forgot that there was another at home, who Cordelia had chosen over him. Because this was right. This was what they had aimed for for at least three of their married years. How was it fair that they had it now, when they were no longer together? They should be. No one would doubt it.

He had heard the talk already. Cordelia had always been well liked at her job, but the tone had changed. They thought her weird now. Crazy lesbian he had heard someone call her. She couldn't possibly be content with that. With him, she wouldn't have to feel that. With him, everything would look like it should. He sighed, knowing it was a stupid thought he was engaging in. Even if he told her this, he knew what the answer was. She loved Misty. And he owed his life to that witch.

Cordelia looked up from the swing set and smiled. Hank smiled back.

Still, he wasn't completely shut out. She still had warmth towards him. He wasn't a stranger here, like he was in the rest of the town. No matter how much Fiona and Misty wanted him to be.

After a while, Cordelia came to join him on the bench. She did look much happier these days, only today there was a familiar shadow in her face.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

She smiled, one of those smiles meant to hide her feelings. He might be an idiot, but he wasn't completely oblivious to her tricks. "There's just a lot going on these days. It's a little difficult to keep on top of it."

"You mean I stirred things up by coming back?"

"Among other things, yes."

He reached out a hand and put it on top of hers. "I don't want to make things harder for you."

"Then don't", she said and withdrew her hand. She looked at him and that fragility, which he had somehow always missed when looking at Kaylee, shone in her eyes.

"You can't deny that there's still something here."

"Don't, Hank." Her eyes were hard now. Yet also conflicted, he thought. He wanted to say more, but Cage interrupted them. He ran to Cordelia first and her face changed, the hardness of her features fell away instantly and she looked happy again.

"I wanna play the chase game!" The little boy said. "Play with me?" He looked at them both then, challenging either of them to run after him.

"This is usually Misty's came. They play this all the time, when they're out", Cordelia explained. Misty's name hadn't been mentioned in a while, but now that it did, it found its way beyond the paper filter and Hank thought that she would not win today.

He put on a good game face and poked at the boy.

"I can do chasing", he said and got up. Cage squealed with laughter and started running. He was a trusting kid, inviting Hank to play like that after having only met him twice. Maybe he sensed that they were more than strangers to each other. Hank thought of this while running after him.

"Be careful, honey!" Cordelia yelled. Hank wanted it to be for them both, but when he looked back, Cordelia had only eyes for her son.

He chased his son – the notion of the thought still sounded so weird to him, but he could see himself in this role somehow – around for half an hour, before Cordelia announced that they should be getting back.

When Hank asked when he could see them both again, Cordelia answered: "I'll talk to Misty about it. And then we can meet up at your hotel room and try to lay down a schedule for a few weeks. See how it plays out."

"Am I not welcome at the house anymore?" He asked, but it was more a joke than an actual question. He had no desire for the company of the remaining inhabitants.

Cordelia didn't answer that, but said instead: "I'll give you a call."

Hank only nodded and took a second to look at her. It was all the intimacy he was allowed. Looking at her and pretend that his last shot hadn't been taken yet. Then he bent down and said goodbye to Cage, before they left the playground.

O0O

"You sure you're good, Mrs. Elba?" The old woman nodded and smiled, hugged the jar in her tiny arms. They were sunburnt and wrinkled by now, but they had a strong grasp. Her old body still had strength in it. Marie sometimes thought to ask some of the boys from the saloon to follow Mrs. Elba home, but she was tough. There was no need.

Mrs. Elba smiled. "I'm good, you made sure of that. My back's been such a bully these days, but your potions always help. Don't know about all those rumors, but you sure have a knack for _somethin'_."

Marie smiled back and felt guilty for hoping that was it. She didn't want to rush Mrs. Elba out, but she ached to get back to her room and try again. Every second spent out here was a second she was failing her boy.

Her old neighbor interrupted her thoughts. "You needa get outta this house, honey. Get some sun in that pretty face of yours. You lookin' pale."

"I have things to do, mama, makin' up potions and whatnot", she argued, but received a solemn smile in return and felt the air change. Damn, here it comes, she thought.

"Your sister fixin' up my hair, you fixin' my back. You're a good pair of girls, you two. Shame what happened." There it was. She hadn't seen many people since it happened and those of the neighborhood divided into two groups of people; those who drowned her in condolences and those who, out of fear or respect, chose to act like nothing had happened. She might have been hurt if this particular woman, who had been a part of Marie's life for as long as she could remember, had belonged to the second group, but now she wished for silence. The talk hurt too much and it made her too angry.

She thought maybe Mrs. Elba saw it, because she went on: "You know I lost my boy three years ago. Now I know that ain't the same, because it was the slippery roads that took him, but same goes: There's no pain like that loss. Lord knows I ain't here to tell you different."

"So what are you here to tell me?" She bit herself for talking with such disrespect, but it was out before she could stop it. The rage seemed so close to the surface these days that it took all she had not to lash out. Maybe that was why Chantal and her crew had held back on their wandering through the house. It was so much quieter these days.

Mrs. Elba tugged the jar onto her right hip and placed her free hand on Marie's arm. "God is cruel sometimes", she said. "The world needs balance. God is cruel so we don't have to be. You remember that, Marie."

"I can't make promises, mama." She received a strict glance in return for that.

"I know you, girl. I know you want a war with Fiona Goode. You have ever since that horrible woman, who worked for you, came back. But she gone now. And they're dangerous, those arrogant people like Fiona Goode. You watch out for that woman."

The mention of Delphine's name only fueled the fire under her skin. She knew from her spies that Delphine was dead now, even if she didn't know how. Still, it did nothing to ease her repulsion towards anything of her past that Delphine had touched. She was about to comment on it, more harsh words she didn't know how to stop, when something else caught her attention. Out the corner of her eye, Marie saw Chinwee walking up to the house. She knew he brought information and she remembered she didn't have to be so angry, because revenge was set in motion already.

She took Mrs. Elba's hand, ready to send her away as respectfully as possible. She gave the old woman a smile, one as real as she could muster and said: "I think she best watch out for me. Be on your way now please."

She nodded. "All right. You be good. I'll see you when I run out." She tapped the jar and then turned away. She wasn't a fast walker, but she was steady. Marie hoped for strength like that. She needed it.

When she was out of sight, Chinwee approached. He was a boy of the house, had lived there with them for years and he used to play with Damian, keep him busy while Marie attended business. He shared the pain of the loss. He hadn't been driven out yet, like most of the others, by Marie's rage and the smell of death within the house and now he was her most trusted spy. She had sent him out to keep tabs on the young girl's boyfriend, after she woke him. He was a mess from the very first blink of his second life and she needed to learn from it. She needed a calm resurrection for her boy, but this one was a weapon.

Chinwee followed her in, to the privacy of her garden. This too was quiet, as the rest kept on the other side. Marie had learned to enjoy the space, enjoy the place of an outsider, now that she suddenly was one. Her sister was the only one who wasn't yet alienated by her obsession with revenge. It was fine. Marie didn't need friends, she only needed her boy back. And she would succeed soon enough.

When they found a spot to sit down, hugged by cool shadow, Chinwee said: "I have news about that Goode girl Misty."

Marie nodded. "Tell me. She find the boyfriend?"

He nodded and made a disgusted grimace. "I followed him to his home, saw him kill his own mama. Then Misty-girl shows up with the other one and they find him. And Misty-girl did somethin' to him, touched him and then he almost fell asleep. But like a sleep of dead. He still alive, but I saw it happen and I thought to myself, she has powers like you. Only they opposite or somethin'. I checked again when the girl took him home and he much calmer now. She got voodoo like you, Marie."

"Ain't nobody got voodoo like me", Marie answered. "But she sure is some kind of witch. Thanks Chinwee. Keep an eye on the boyfriend for me. And be careful around him, he ain't tame yet!"

He nodded, got up and headed back the way he came. Marie watched him go around the corner, probably to take a seat with the family on the other side of the building, while she chewed the news. She knew Misty's story well enough by now to know the witch of the gators hadn't been in contact with Papa Legba. Because her love was still alive. This was something else, something on the other end of the spectrum. It appeared Marie had acquired herself a worthy enemy. And this one would soon regret she had ever associated with the Goodes.

O0O

Zoe didn't enjoy her time off school much. When she came in for substitute classes, she felt like a robot, mechanic in her presence. She could barely remember what she taught the kids, let alone enjoy it. And instead of appreciating the dearly missed warmth and sun from a nice spot on the porch, she sat indoors with Kyle, trying to teach him the words and sentences that had fallen from his mind during his brief death. He was even harder to teach than the kids, whose faces she couldn't remember. She wasn't entirely sure if he wasn't still dead, yet he breathed in a way. So he must be alive, she thought. When she looked at him and caught his eyes, felt him stare back with recognition and a smile somewhere in his features, she knew he was alive. The rest of the time she wasn't so sure.

He was still piled in the corner. He came up to her bed when she was sleepy or when she told him to lie down and fool her parents into thinking he was sick. They were annoyed that he might risk infecting her as well, but they didn't object, because they knew just a fraction of Kyle's malignant relationship with his mother. It wasn't the first time he had stayed over for weeks at a time.

Her parents were at work and Misty had promised to come by today before work. Zoe waited anxiously for her to come, while watching Kyle play with little kid's toys and fling kid's books around, trying to read them. He lost patience so quickly. She used to have to tell him to keep studying and stop distracting her, but it was all nothing compared to now. It was like a five year old version of himself was trapped in his pale, mangled body.

"Kyle, here, try this one." She stopped him from hurling the next book across the room and put the headphones on him instead. The headphones were connected to a Walkman, playing simple books that he could repeat.

Kyle grunted and poked at the Walkman.

"Try repeating the words, Kyle."

He did, slowly and rasping. His voice sounded like a deep, dragging, broken bass the way he chewed at the words as they came out. "The… li-ttle bo-y… sa-id-…"

"Good Kyle. That's good", Zoe said and swallowed the lump in her throat. He grew agitated when he heard her voice shake.

Kyle looked up, lifted his finger and pointed towards Zoe.

He started with a low hiss and then slowly came the word: "Zzz… Zo-e."

Zoe smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that's me." She didn't get to say more before there was knocking on the door. Kyle started yelping like a frightened dog and Zoe shushed him gently, ran a hand through his hair until he calmed.

"That's good. I'll be right back, okay?"

He nodded. "K-ay."

She went to the door and let Misty in. Her clear blue eyes were hard and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something horrendous.

"What is it?" Zoe asked.

"Still smells like death in here", she said.

Zoe sniffed the air. "I don't smell it. I got Kyle to shower just this morning, I-"

Misty shook her head. "Not that. It's the air. It's 'cause of what Laveau did to him." She winced again and looked towards the hall, which led to Zoe's room. "Can I see him?"

At first, Zoe hesitated. She had agreed to let Misty help, and she wanted her to – because she knew that no one else could, not now – but suddenly she halted, remembering what had happened to him last time.

"Last time, that thing you did… If you're going to hurt him…"

Misty shook her head again. "I ain't tryna hurt him. Just figure out what's wrong with him. I got no books to learn from, only my hands. Let me?" She could never argue with Misty. She had probably thrice the education Misty would ever have already, yet Misty sounded wise in a way Zoe knew she would never achieve. She only nodded and showed Misty the way.

As both of them entered the bedroom, Kyle's expression changed. Zoe would have thought him scared, thought he would yelp and whine, like he did whenever she tried to leave him, and curl up in the corner. Instead a low, threatening growl rolled up from his throat and he moved slowly into a crouching position, as if getting ready for attack.

"Kyle…" Zoe started with a quivering voice, but Misty shushed her. At that sound, Kyle snarled and stared at Misty with eyes that were suddenly much darker. Dark to Misty's light blue. A thought entered Zoe's mind, one that said she was witnessing the meeting of two opposing forces. She could feel it in the air too now, sense it like the spark of electricity. It made her hairs stand up on her arms and neck. Misty didn't stray from her position, not even when Kyle opened his mouth to roar. It wasn't the roar of the bear that had killed him; the sound was far weaker, made by weaker vocal cords, but it still scared Zoe to tears. Yet Misty didn't back away. She moved forward instead, one small step at a time, eyes hard and focused, a hand tentatively stretched forward.

Misty stopped when she was a couple of feet away and then crouched until they were almost the same height. She kept above him, looking a bit like an animal, Zoe thought. Rules of nature, Misty had told her; most creatures do not battle was is bigger than them, fore it is often stronger too. It seemed nature ruled in her house today as well, because Kyle didn't attack. He kept snarling, rolling out those raspy breaths and his dark eyes bored into Misty's as hers did the same in return.

Finally, Misty reached out a hand and placed it on his wrist.

It was a gentle touch and the serenity seemed to spread from the touch into Kyle. His eyes fluttered and he wavered on his feet. The look of lightheadedness, of faint, came over him again, but this time Misty pulled away before Zoe could interrupt. Kyle sat down into the corner and stared ahead with a dreamlike expression.

Misty stood up, looked at him for a moment without turning around.

"Can you help him?" Zoe asked hopefully. It had gone so well this time, compared to the last. It made small butterflies gather in her stomach, anxious hope fluttering around.

But when Misty turned, her expression made ice of Zoe's butterflies.

"I think there's only one way I can save him from this."

"You don't mean…" She couldn't finish her sentence. Misty's sad eyes were answer enough.

"I think he ain't well like this."

Zoe shook her head and looked at her boyfriend. He started to wake up again, the look of spite came over his face again and he bared his teeth in a snarl. Misty moved away with calm and made room for Zoe to sit down and stroke his hair until he diverted his eyes and eased up.

"I can't let you do it", Zoe whispered. "He's good with me. I can teach him to be himself again. I can."

Kyle reached up and caught the tear on her cheek with his finger. He used to do that before too, catch her tears so she wouldn't cry them. He always said it made him sad to see them fall.

"He's calm with you. Maybe that's enough. But I don't know." Misty's voice was flat and honest, no hope or presumption in there. Only the truth she knew. But Zoe had to believe a different one.

"It is." She turned around to face Misty and said it again, just as much to convince herself as to convince her. "It's going to be enough."

Misty nodded. "I get what he is to you, so I won't make the choice for you. But you know where I am."

They looked at each other and found understanding there. They both gave a nod and Misty turned to leave. Kyle grew agitated beside her and Zoe shushed him gently, as the front door closed.

O0O

Hank opened the door for Cordelia on an evening three days after their playdate with Cage. He recognized the sadness in her face as the first thing about her. He was so used to seeing it, that finding it almost completely absent had taken him with shock when he first appeared a week ago. He had only known her whilst engulfed in darkness and seeing her genuinely well was a rare sight he had almost forgotten by the end of their marriage. Now the shadows were back and he asked her about them.

"I'm having a bit of a relapse, it seems", she said honestly.

"Are you back on medication?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet." Then she smiled, one that was almost convincing. "Let's not talk about it. It's a nice room you have here. Isn't it expensive?"

Hank shrugged. "Could have been worse. But I have some money. Cleared my bank account right after I left here. And I recently had a job in that payed better than the one at my father's company."

"Have you spoken to your father since?" Hank noticed she never finished those sentences. As if even though everyone came out alive, it was still too horrible to speak of. He knew what she meant though.

"Can't do that. He thinks I'm dead."

"I'm sorry", she said and looked like she meant it. He wanted to say that it wasn't her fault, but in an indirect way, it was. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

"You know him. It wasn't that big a loss." He tried to say it with ease, but didn't quite succeed. As awful as he father often made him feel, being dead to him hurt more than Hank had expected. It was a freedom he didn't truly want after all.

Cordelia seemed to be reading his mind, when she said: "Still. He is your father."

"I know. I sometimes call him up to hear his voice", Hank admitted. "But I always hang up before he realizes who it is."

"He might start to think you're haunting him."

"You don't believe stuff like that."

Cordelia sighed. "I don't know." She moved to the small table at the other end of the room and sat down. Pulled out a calendar and looked up for him. He went to join her, but had no calendar or even a piece of paper to write down on. He hadn't come here with much. Most of his belongings were stored away in New York or reduced to ash.

She noticed his lack of supplies and gave him an apologetic smile before she drew out a pencil to jot down available days on a notepad for him. For a while they discussed days back and forth and the possibility of Hank spending time alone with Cage. Cordelia was particularly hesitant here and he didn't push her. He actually preferred it if she was present as well. It made him feel like that family they were never allowed.

When they were done, she packed the calendar away and left the notes for him, but she didn't leave at once. Instead she asked how he had been. He didn't know if it was out of guilt, curiosity or something else and he didn't care. He ended up telling her about his new life in the cold New York, about kicking the drinking habit and about Kaylee. How they had helped each other get through addiction, or at least that was what he had thought until she burned his apartment down.

Cordelia covered her mouth with her hand in that dramatic fashion she used to when faced with something horrendous. "Oh God, that's horrible. I'm sorry she did that to you."

"I should have seen it coming. She did love to light stuff on fire."

"But still, that's taking it a little far I think."

Hank couldn't help a chuckle. "Agreed. But I had to break up with her anyway, so I had it coming." Cordelia didn't ask why he had to, only looked at him from across the table with a wary expression, as if she knew just why without him saying it. But he said it anyway. "I had to because of you. Because you and I aren't finished."

Suddenly the atmosphere turned serious and his heart stammered in his chest. The paper filter had allowed him to talk without a tremor, but now as he saw her face change, the paper filter didn't protect him enough. Not from her.

"Hank, please don't do this. I… I have to go." She got out of the chair and so did he. He cut her off on the way to the door.

"Listen to me. You said you love me. You didn't want me to go even though both of us knew I should. Now here I am." He took a step closer to her, close enough to gently trace her forearm with his hand.

"Don't", she pleaded, pushed his hand away with a weak motion. It felt almost reluctant to him. He knew her, knew her buttons. Like how she relaxed more when a hand rested at her hip and he snuck his hand there instead. She gestured to push him off again, but he held on a little tighter, brought the other hand up as well. He couldn't help registering how good it felt to hold her.

"I should never have left you. I should have stayed and fought for you."

"I can't do this", she whispered. Her eyes watered up, but she also closed her fingers around the fabric of his shirtsleeve.

"You can if you want to", he told her. No answer came and Hank leaned forward, caught her lips in a gentle kiss. It was just enough to remember how much he had missed this, just enough for the prickle in his chest to feel real. Then she pushed him away with a hand on his chest.

"No, Hank." Her voice quivered. She withdrew her hand again, rubbed her temple in a panicked cirle and blinked the tears away.

"I love you, Cordelia. Just please..." He looked into her eyes and he wasn't sure what he found there, only that it didn't match her words. She drew a trembling breath and looked right back. Helplessness was the most predominant emotion in her gaze, but in such a way that he couldn't help but feed on it. She didn't resist and when the prickle in his chest started to die again he moved forward, pressed his mouth to hers one more time.

This time she didn't push him away. He drew his arm further around her waist, pulled her in and she let him. Suddenly the atmosphere changed and they were engulfed by a bubble, sending them back in time. Back to when they knew each other's bodies and there was only them. Maybe all the way back to college when he was first battling her depression to win her over. He pulled her closer yet, wowed his fingers into her hair and thrilled at her response in kind. He could feel the temperature building now and it wasn't only him. Her tiny hands fisted in his shirt and started tugging at it. He discarded it gladly and worked his way beneath her layers of clothes. How he had missed the feel of her skin. He pulled her towards the bed and she followed. Her eyes were dark and there were no more words in her. As if that part of her mind had shut off. He laid her down and she pulled him with her.

Finally there was an opportunity to taste her sweet skin. He put his mouth to her shoulder, her chest, simultaneously wanting to savor the feeling and afraid she would suddenly stop him. But she didn't.

O0O

You're disgusting. Now you've really done it. Filthy traitor. You don't deserve to ever look at Misty again.

The voices hammered down on her and she let them. There was no point in trying to scratch them away. She agreed with every single one of them.

Hank had drifted off into sleep and she got dressed as fast and as quiet as she could. She couldn't face him now. She couldn't face anyone. All she could was to get out of this room, which reeked of her betrayal.

She thought maybe he opened his eyes and looked at her right before she closed the door, but she didn't stop to check. She only prayed he wouldn't come running after her, as she found her way out of the hotel.

It was barely midnight. The sky was dark and heavy with clouds, the streets empty. The heat hung over her like a hand pushing her to the ground, even at this hour. She had made no promises to come home early despite Misty's objections, because she hadn't known how long it would make Hank agree to the days she had Misty had proposed. And she had wanted to catch up. She had needed that and Misty understood that their past was complicated, in desperate need of receiving some closure. But now this… Tears pressed on and spilled over at the thought of Misty, sweet Misty waiting at home for her. She might have gone to sleep now, but she was a light sleeper and she would no doubt register her entering.

She couldn't go home. It felt like bringing poison into their house, infecting Misty with whatever had possessed Cordelia to do this monstrous thing.

She didn't go home. Instead she found an ally to cry in, hoping the shadows would eat her before she could leave again. She had to get it out of her system, before she neared the house. Misty would see right through her and she couldn't know. It would destroy her.

You deserve watch her disintegrate. You deserve to be hated.

She did. God knew she did.

The shadows bit at her feet, but they didn't swallow her up as she had hoped. After half an hour in the dark, she knew she had to return or Misty would worry, maybe even go to the hotel. Cordelia had given her the address, as Misty didn't use phones and wanted a place to show up if anything should happen. The mere possibility of a scene where Misty could have shown up, witnessed that… it made Cordelia want to stay in the dark forever. She could feel her fingers reaching out for a black hole to disappear into, but only now when she truly wanted one, nothing showed. She was not allowed to disappear into insanity, no matter how much the voices hissed at her. She had her beautiful, miracle boy who needed her.

Finally she steered towards home and found a light on. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt as if she was running a fever, when she walked through the front door.

The voice from inside the house wasn't Misty's. She had never been so relieved to hear Cometh's voice as in that moment. That meant Misty was upstairs asleep and her mother likely wouldn't be too observant. She rushed through the hall, said a quick hello and reached the stairs before Fiona caught her.

"You look unhappy." She didn't say more than that. As if the straightforward question was too simple for her and perhaps even stripped her a layer of pride.

"Is that news?" Cordelia answered and took another step.

Fiona raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead she asked: "Is boy fox being difficult?"

"Mind your own business, mother."

"You _are_ my business."

Cordelia shook her head. "Say goodnight to Cometh for me." She went up the stairs before Fiona could say any more.

She snuck into the dark of the master bedroom with a sickening heartbeat and changed as quietly as she could, hoping she wouldn't wake Misty. She crept into bed beside her, facing away and feeling like some thief in the night. An imposter to the person Misty expected to return to her bed.

Just when she thought she was safe, a hand came around her and a breath tickled her ear.

"You okay, darlin'? Did he make trouble out of it?"

"No, we agreed fine", she whispered back.

"Then what?" Misty tugged at her waist, tried to get her to turn around, but Cordelia stayed in place. She was afraid she would give herself away, even in the dark.

"Today is just a struggle", she said. There was a short pause and then Misty gave up on trying to make her turn around.

"Tomorrow'll be better", she said at last, kissed Cordelia behind the ear and nuzzled herself back into bed. Cordelia didn't answer, but squeezed Misty's hand on her stomach and fought to strangle the tears.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for all the support you guys! I'm glad you decided to stick around, even if the foxxay is a bit messed up at the moment. But we still got a long way to go, there's time for everything. Okay here goes.**

* * *

Tomorrow wasn't better. Her tomorrow was a kind of new day she would never have thought she would experience. In truth, she had already, but the guilt was always different when Hank was the deceived one. The conflict hadn't tasted the same. The shame was never this strong. Nightmares didn't haunt her so long into the day as they did now.

And the nightmares went on. Those of Cage's mangled body came with more breathing space in between now, but they hadn't left. She had kept afloat with them, because when she woke up screaming and ran to the nursery, Misty would wrap her in a soothing embrace by the side of Cage's crib and it would be okay. Now the gesture made her feel so much worse that she had to rid herself of the warm touch, because the hands burned her.

At first Misty asked what troubled her so, but a week of getting no answer left her quiet. She still came in every time though, hands searching to see if they were needed. Once, Cordelia surrendered and cried into her hair, feeling like filthy thief for stealing this kind of comfort she had no right to receive.

She went to work the next day as though nothing bothered her. She needed this armor of indifference to survive the day.

She ate alone these days. Those few friends she had found in colleagues were scattered. One had moved to a different district, one had retired and one had proven not to be a friend at all. Now she sat with a coven of others, looking at Cordelia as they spoke. Cordelia didn't need to hear the words to know what they said about her. And she didn't have the spirit to shut them out. Her armor was wearing thin lately.

Lunch wasn't completely over before she fled the teacher's lounge and went for a stall of toilets at the far end. On her way she bumped into a student around the corner, too lost in her own world of inside and outside voices to look where she tread.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't look where I was going", she stammered, before she even recognized the student.

"It's quite alright, Miss Goode." The voice had aged and so had the face, but the eyes of young Trisha looked back with a smile in them. She had swapped the glasses for contacts, but her ruffled brown hair was still her trademark. Her body had stretched into that of a teenager, one with a little more on her bones than the rest, but it only made her look more mature in Cordelia's eyes.

"Wow Trisha, look at you. I don't see you enough around school, you all grow into such beautiful young people without me."

Trisha gave her a shy smile. "We miss you, the class", she said. She shot Cordelia a look and then added: "You know we don't think you're crazy, right? Those of us who met Misty kinda knew." There was a troublemaker smile in her features, one that resembled the young version so much it made Cordelia's heart ache. She missed the guilt she carried then, as opposed to this one.

"That's sweet of you to say, Trisha. I miss your class too. You were a good group."

She smiled and winked. It made Cordelia's chest flutter with memories, so much it threatened to break her fragile heart. But Trisha didn't see it. "I have to get to class, but say hi to Misty for me, okay?" She cheerfully tapped Cordelia shoulder and then she was out of sight. Her energy lingered for a moment or so, allowed Cordelia to absorb it and use it to get through the day until she could go back to the outside silence of her house. The inside of her head was never silent these days. She might have learned to function with the persistent whispers in her mind, to almost tune them out, but silence she didn't get.

The house was empty, except for Spalding's ever present shadow. Fiona was out picking up Cage today and Misty must be roaming the forest for some breathing space. Cordelia knew she felt the tension and she knew that Cordelia's holding it in frustrated her so, but how could she speak of this? There was no comfort to be gained for either of them by letting it out. No damage would be erased, no guilt lifted. She would only include Misty in her own suffering.

Cordelia found her way to the bathroom and went to a corner of the cupboard she hadn't searched in a long while. Misty had hid most of them away during her mental break, but as the years proved healthier for Cordelia, she stopped hiding them. And Cordelia had stuffed a new one away in case of need. Now she took out the little razor and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. She pulled up her skirt until her left thigh was bared. Her skin looked so wholesome, the white, incurable scars barely visible on her pale skin. She drew a deep sigh, put the little blade to her skin and dragged it until a red line separated the white. She hissed as the cut divided, stopped for second to breathe and then found a new spot. She knew this pain, she knew what to expect from it. In a way, that familiarity was comforting.

There were five thin lines by the time she heard steps on the stairs. She didn't try to hide, because she knew it wasn't Fiona or Cage.

"Delia?"

Cordelia didn't answer, only breathed out another heavy sigh and took the blade off her leg. She had closed the door, but she hadn't locked it and when Misty tested the handle, it opened. She peeked in through the crack, not to see but to feel the atmosphere the way she always did. Cordelia sometimes thought that should Misty ever go blind, she would see just as clearly as she did now.

Her body stiffened for a second and then she swung the door open. They looked at each other and it was all the explanation needed for now. Cordelia lifted her hand and let Misty pick the blade out of her bloodied grip, before she kneeled and reached to mend Cordelia's newly wrecked skin. Her touch was careful and slow, but her movements betrayed shock despite the trance that sunk over her soon after. She didn't comment, however, and Cordelia was grateful. The supernatural warmth spread in Cordelia's thigh and it felt too good. Too good, because God it hurt to watch her sit there again, unconditionally devoted to fixing what Cordelia knew now couldn't be fixed.

Misty looked up from her position and her eyes were pleading. "This ain't the way, darlin', you know that. You're the talker, remember? You gotta tell me."

Her face looked so young, dressed in worry. Cordelia cupped it in her hands and said: "I love you. You know that, don't you? No matter what happens, that never stops being true."

Misty took her hands and lowered them. Held them to her mouth and mumbled: "I know. That was never the problem." She drew out a little smile and got up. "C'mon, best get you cleaned up 'fore the rest of 'em comes home."

O0O

Fiona leaned back against the windowpane of Cometh's small apartment, half dressed, and blew smoke against the window. She watched it twirl and dissipate against the glass, trying and failing to ignore his steps coming closer.

"I thought you were going to stop that?" He said. "For your daughters."

"Only one of them is mine", Fiona replied. "And what she doesn't know doesn't hurt her."

Cometh came into her peripheral vision, blocked it and stole her focus. "I think their point was that it hurts _you_."

"That's a lot of preaching from a cocaine dealer."

He sent her a boyish smirk. "I never touch it, you know that."

Fiona scoffed and gave him a look. "Don't I get credit for quitting the other two? This one is the least destructive."

"I'm not sure that's true", he said and picked the cigarette out of her fingers. He put it out in the ashtray beside the window. When Fiona gave him a disproving look, he only lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I don't want you harming yourself either."

She looked into his warm, soulful eyes and her stomach twisted. Suddenly she realized how much she wanted to tell him about the doctor's visit and how little she wanted him to know that he was losing her. The thought of that smile going away hurt in a way she hadn't hurt in a long time. She didn't answer his words, but turned her front to him and pulled him in.

"Kiss me", she demanded and he did. His hands traveled up her spine, gentlemanlike in their touch and only forceful at the right times. This was another reason she couldn't tell him. He would treat her like a bag of feathers if he knew and she didn't need that. She needed this.

"Have you considered my proposal yet?" He whispered in her ear.

"I told you no."

He kissed her neck, his teeth carefully scraping her skin. "But you didn't mean it."

"Stop talking, Cometh."

He did and she finally got the break she needed. However, when she left an hour later, she wasn't sure if she felt relieved or more oppressed. He must be used to her lacking explanations by now, but she could tell this one bothered him the most. His mistake, because knowing the truth would do far more than bother him.

Fiona locked herself into the mansion and enjoyed the quiet. It was early in the afternoon, her daughter and her grandson occupied with their daily doings. She could never tell if Misty was at work or not at this time. She figured not, as most bars hadn't opened yet, so that left the forest. Better she stay out there. She was acting strange these days, moodier, quieter. As were Fiona's own daughter, but mood swings were nothing unusual with her.

Even Cage seemed to sense a change in the air. The whole house appeared to be under a cloud of something, a rain that avoided Fiona. She didn't know the nature of the rain, only that boy Foxx was likely the cause. He hadn't been by since the first day, but he and Cordelia had met up with and without Cage on a few occasions. For once Fiona agreed with the moody swamp witch; Hank could crawl back into a muddy hole of oblivion for all she cared.

A knock on the door interrupted her before she could settle down in her usual armchair. No one ever came knocking here except for Zoe and Fiona wasn't surprised to see her face on the other side of the door. The lack of color in her face and the aura of exhaustion were the only aspects unexpected.

"Zoe, are you sick? You look horrible."

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Is Misty here?"

"No, my guess is the swamp. But I wouldn't go out there if I were you, Misty says it's acting out or something like that-" She stopped herself, when she realized that information might hit a little too close to home with Zoe. But the girl barely reacted. Her gaze remained indifferent, as she waited for Fiona to stop talking. She appeared to be contemplating something with herself, as she looked slowly around. Vague grey circles had formed under her eyes and it drew the light out of them. Her usual energy had seeped out of her between now and when Fiona last saw her.

"How is Kyle?" She had wanted to give the girl a piece of her mind about crossing paths with Laveau ever since the incident with the dead mom, but this grey look over her was too familiar and Fiona kept her mouth shut about it.

"He's fine. Um, do you have a space here you don't use? For storage? Like a cellar or something."

"We have an attic. Why?"

"Can I use it?"

Fiona give the girl a scrutinizing look. Zoe looked back and her dull gaze gave nothing away.

"What happened to you, girl?"

Zoe shrugged. "Haven't been getting so much sleep lately. So can I use it?"

"Sure", Fiona offered. "You get up there from out back. It's not locked and you can use all of it. No one goes up there anyway."

"Thank you. I'll come by with it later." She then said a polite goodbye and walked back down the isle. Fiona watched her disappear down the street and thought to herself that if there was a virus of depression to catch around here, she had better start living at Cometh's.

O0O

"Come on, Kyle." She couldn't help but feel that she was talking to a dog. He had more words now, even full sentences when he concentrated, but the way he reacted to her care and gentle commands were more canine than human. He walked hand in hand with her, but the thought to put a collar and a thick leash around his neck had crossed her mind. He was calm with her, but he got agitated so easily. Much too easy.

She had gotten him clean of dirt and sweat and some hidden blood leftovers and guided him to his new home. There was no space at her own house anymore; it was too difficult.

They walked onto the Goode's pavement, but instead of walking up the isle, they turned and went for the back yard. Kyle gave her a confused look, perhaps remembering that they used to go for the front door. Zoe ignored it. Fiona had pointed out the entrance to the attic room and Zoe led him there.

"We need to go up here, Kyle. Come on." He looked at her and then at her finger pointing up the stairs to the attic room. Then he started walking, dragging her with him by the hand. _Good boy._

It was a narrow staircase. Zoe wasn't claustrophobic but Kyle looked miserable, curled up and head down to walk in here. The old maid had to be one short woman to live up here. Zoe pushed at Kyle to get him moving and told him to open the door. He did, whining a little as he did it.

It was a small room with bare walls and a little window facing the sky at a crooked angle. The floorboards had been scrubbed clean of blood years ago and now a thick layer of dust covered the floor. It was so thick their steps left prints in it, like when she walked through untouched snow at winter. It made her cough and it startled Kyle when she did. He tread warily into the room and sat down on the floor.

He didn't need anything, she realized. There was no bed in here, no place for food, but Kyle didn't need any of that. He didn't sleep she had noticed and he ate whatever she served him, no need for it to be cooled or even good. He ate everything.

She shuddered and cast a glance towards the end wall. There was markings from nails bolted into that wall. Through flesh, she knew. Misty had told her the whole story. It was something out of a horror movie and now seeing the actual place for the first time caused another shiver to run down her spine. She took the Walkman out of her back and placed it beside in, hurrying to get out of there. But when she started to move away, Kyle yelped and latched onto her hand.

"Don't go Z-oe!"

"I have to, Kyle. I'll come over and feed you soon, okay?"

He dragged at her hand again. Death had added to his strength; one tug and she was on her knees in front of him.

"Z-oe?" She didn't answer, only looked into his face and watched it twist into sadness. "I'm sorry."

She drew a sigh, closed her eyes and tried to keep composed. Then she got up again.

"I have to go now, Kyle." She snaked her hand out of his grasp, turned on her heel and left. She blinked the tears away and locked the door behind her.

The clean air almost stung in her lungs, when she heaved in a fresh breath. Then she closed the door to the staircase and walked out of the garden.

Only to meet Misty around the corner. She jumped aside just in time to avoid getting hit in the head with a giant jar full of dirt and plants.

"Zoe, what're you doing here?" Misty asked and sat down the jar. It looked too heavy for Misty's small bone structure to carry, but there was in a strength in her no one understood, least of all Zoe. And something else in her features. Anger. And anger makes strong they say.

"Um, just…" She trailed off. She had no words. "Where were you going?" She asked instead.

"To the green house. But _I_ live here." She looked like she was about to ask another thing, then stopped. Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't bring him here, did you?" Her gaze pierced Zoe's slow mind and her head turned towards the corner. A look of disbelief came over her eyes and she started walking towards the staircase.

"Misty, please-" She didn't bother saying more; Misty had already ripped the door open and was halfway of the stairs. Zoe watched from the bottom, as Misty turned the lock and opened the door. Zoe guessed that she had found Kyle when her posture stiffened. From the inside came a low, rumbling snarl. Then Misty shut the door again and came back down the stairs. Zoe expected her to be furious, but if so it was a cold kind of fury. Misty slammed the door to the staircase and turned to Zoe. There was definitely fury in her eyes now and as they pierced Zoe once again, she found herself slightly frightened for just a moment.

"Why did you bring him here?" Misty demanded.

"It's not for you to… It was just too much having him at home. And I'm afraid he'll do more damage in the city."

"I thought you and your parents could handle it."

"My parents are travelling", she said and the tears threatened to come back. Misty towered over her, still holding her trapped in that cold fury. "He's so violent. I can't keep him from breaking everything. But there's nothing to break up there. And Fiona said I could use the attic."

"Bet you didn't tell her what you're using it for", Misty snapped.

Zoe shook her head. "I didn't. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do! But he's locked in now and I'll take care of him, I promise!"

Misty growled, not that much unlike the sound Kyle sometimes made, and looked to the sky. Zoe might just be hoping, but she seemed agitated beyond the burden Zoe had just placed on her. Maybe it was just that she didn't like the thought that she was the one making Misty uncomfortable.

"Do you think Cordelia-"

Misty's eyes snapped back to her. "You don't say nothin' to her!" Zoe shook her head at once.

"Not if you don't want me to. If you think that's best."

"She's got enough on her mind, trust me." Misty growled again and went to pick up the jar. When she spoke, again the fury had gone from her voice and only some mild frustration lingered. "Just make sure he stays up there. I gotta go. Cage's runnin' a fever and we might needa take him to the doctor this time."

"Hope he feels better", Zoe offered. Misty gave her a small, tight smile, that didn't reach her eyes and went on with the jar. The fright left Zoe again and every other emotions seemed to go with it. She was left in tasteless, neutral grey, as if all color had seeped out as well.

She walked home in the grey.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys. Wow so much polarization in the comments. I'm happy to have written a story well enough to draw out such strong reactions. I like to write flawed people, because it feels more real that way and of course that leads to conflicts like this. I appreciate comments from either side of the spectrum and I read every single one at least twice. Everyone is allowed to have their opinion and I think about a lot of them when I write, but I'm true to character first and foremost – guess you'll just have to see where that takes them ;) Thanks again for reading!**

* * *

They took Cage to the nurse the next morning. Misty sat in the passenger's seat with the inconsolable little boy, as Cordelia drove the car. They said nothing to each other, but tried their best to soothe Cage. Misty still hated cars, but she had grown accustomed to them over the years, and she had no time to get travelsick with the boy withering in her arms, stealing her attention.

Cordelia parked, took the bag out of the car and she motioned as if to take Cage too, but thought better of it. Misty propped him up on her hip and carried him instead.

"I hope it's not an infection", Cordelia said as they walked towards the hospital.

"It's not", Misty simply answered. She would have known.

Cordelia gave her a look. "I know you can tell the most, but there are things you can't detect. I just worry, with him being born three weeks early. I know I worry too much."

Misty would still know, but she didn't say that. She knew Cordelia knew it anyway and part of this trip was her wish to appear normal. To protect Misty and her abilities by doing what a normal family would do when the pup is sick; go to the doctor. Cage had so few visits, because Misty mostly took care of it, but once in a while Cage got to see a doctor or the nurse. Often it was when Cordelia's dark thoughts took over and made her question everything.

"It's fine, Delia. But you know the early birth don't mean nothin'. The doctors made sure."

"Yes, I know…" Still she doubted, Misty could tell. She thought of what Fiona had said about a mother's love being irrational sometimes and decided not to say anything.

Emily greeted them soon after they had signed him in. The young nurse smiled and waved them over.

"If it isn't my favorite couple. The doctors are busy today but I had a free hour, so I'm all yours. Come on in."

They sat down in the small examination room and Cordelia started to explain Cage's symptoms. Cage only whimpered now and pressed himself into Misty, trying to hide away from the nurse. He would much rather be home, sleeping in his own bed. He looked up at Misty with wide, glossy eyes as if to ask why she wouldn't fix him like she used to.

"Just a quick check and then we're home, pup", Misty told him and gave him an apologetic smile. She ran a hand through his blond, delicate hair and felt the feverish heat come off him.

Emily neared with the equipment. "I'll be very quick, I promise. If I find anything suspicious I'll call for a doctor, but it sounds like a standard bug." Cordelia nodded and Emily stepped close, bowed down over Misty to look at the boy in her lap. She took Cage's temperature, looked him in the ear and checked his breathing. When she stood up a sudden pain erupted from Misty's scalp and she hissed.

"Oh sorry, Misty! Your hair got caught in my watch." Emily smiled apologetically and carefully removed the hairs dangling from her watch. Misty brushed it off and tried not to look too annoyed. She too would much rather be at home. Better yet, back in her swamp where there wasn't all these worries.

"Well", Emily said, breaking her miserable train of thoughts. "There's nothing suspicious here. And he's so rarely sick, so I wouldn't worry. If the fever continues for more than a couple of days, you should talk to the doctor, but I'm sure he'll be just fine. No need to worry." She added the last while looking at Cordelia. She knew who was the worrier of the family, no doubt thinking back to when they first met. Emily was the nurse who oversaw them during many of Cordelia's pregnancy checkups and she was there the first day Cordelia came in. Cordelia had been so afraid to believe the pregnancy would succeed that she broke down crying at the first ultrasound, shaking and begging to leave, until Misty calmed her and convinced her to fight the fear. She hadn't wanted any remotely invasive tests either. "I'll love this baby no matter what condition it's born with", she said every time someone asked. She trusted Misty to be her guidance for Cage's health. Apart from days like today that was.

"Thank you, Emily. We'll get him back to bed then."

"You do that. And I'm sorry for pulling out your hair, Misty." She looked truly sorry. Misty waved it off and couldn't help smiling. Emily reminded her a bit of Zoe. Or at least how Zoe was before Kyle died and came back.

As they drove home and Cage gave in to his exhaustion, a heavy silence fell over them. Misty stole little glances at Cordelia, whose gaze was fixated on the road. As it should be, but still the intensity hinted of avoidance. Misty almost begged her to talk, but she knew it was no use. Cordelia seemed to determined to keep her words in until they choked her.

There was a moment after they got home, when Misty handed Cordelia the drowsy child and their eyes met and Misty was sure it was about to slip, but the connection broke and Cordelia went to put Cage to sleep.

The next day Cage's fever was down and he was a shiny new kid compared to the day before. Cordelia went to work and Misty stayed home with him. It was her early day at the bar, which meant that she also got home early, and Fiona would be gone, so they had the house to themselves. Except there would be no working today, because of Cage, which only made the day better for Misty. She played in the garden with him, even though she had promised Cordelia that he would get lots of rest. He would get his nap, but Misty secretly knew that nothing healed a bug like Mother Nature.

Zoe came and went as she pleased these days, keeping up her promise to take care of Kyle. Cordelia knew about Kyle in rough detail and she didn't ask for more. The details she had now was enough to make her nauseous. She didn't need to know about Kyle staying in her attic and so Misty didn't tell her. And Zoe made sure not to be seen by her when she came and left. She was here now, but had gone to the kitchen to get herself something for lunch. Misty sat in the garden with Cage, watching him walk around in his own little world. He had Cordelia's smarts for sure, always studying things. Both of his parents were book smart people so it made sense for him to carry on that trait. Misty only did what she could to make him at peace with nature as well, in a way none of his biological parents had ever been. Biology wasn't all, that much she knew. If it was and she was predetermined to be just like her own family, she wouldn't be alive now. And if she was, she would be on her knees praying to some God, whose servants would much rather have her torched at a bonfire than welcome her in their midst. Nature always wins, but that doesn't mean biology determines the fight.

She had succeeded a long way she thought; Cage wasn't afraid of the wild or the unknown. Now he waddled along in the nicely trimmed grass, running his little hand against the wall of the house. His head tipped from side to side, his mouth pressed together with concentration. He was humming. It was a tune Misty couldn't hear from this distance, but the music in his face didn't need lyrics or sound; Misty enjoyed it anyway.

A few feet ahead of Cage, a creek opened. The door to the attic staircase swung open and the sunlight bathed a pale, wretched shape of a person. The hum in _his_ face was far more crude, far less peaceful.

Misty was out of the grass before she could think another thought.

Cage walked towards the creature of Kyle, wary but unafraid still. Kyle turned towards him, slowly, and stared down at the little figure. A chaos of thoughts worked behind his eyes, erupted as he raised his pale, waxy hand to slash.

Misty reached them then. She snatched the boy away before the lunge, held him tight to her chest and crouched to keep him protected, all the while keeping her eyes on Kyle. She hissed at him with the ferocity of a jungle cat, ready to scratch his eyes out if necessary. Kyle growled and the hate returned to his face at the sudden sight of Misty. Cage started to whimper in Misty's arms and Misty held him closer. Little fists grasped at her dress. Kyle snarled and moved half a step forward.

"Kyle no!" Kyle abruptly stiffened and lowered his hand. The hate in his eyes didn't quite fade, but he didn't lash out either. Zoe came running and jumped in between him and Misty. "Don't you touch them! Go back to your room!" Zoe's voice was high and shrill, but Kyle obeyed it. He backed away into the shadows of the staircase with next to no hesitation.

Cage started crying and Misty gently shushed him. She kissed the top of his head, but didn't dare take her eyes of either Zoe or Kyle. Zoe only watched Kyle, stared him down until he went back up the staircase and into the attic room. Zoe didn't move and only now did Misty notice that she was trembling.

But Misty had no room for feeling sorry for Zoe.

"What's he doing down here? You told me you had him under control!" She tried to keep her voice even, but it was impossible. She was shaking herself; aftershock from the sudden threat to Cage's little life.

"Mama you okay?" She turned him around in her arms so he could see her and he lifted a chubby little hand to her cheek.

"I'm okay, baby boy. Are you okay?"

He nodded. "That man was scary."

"I know. He won't scare you no more." She looked up at Zoe, who visibly cringed from her stare.

"I'm so sorry, Misty, I put a lock on the door, I-"

"You've seen how strong he is. Get him out of the house!"

Instead of tearing up more, Zoe's gaze turned dark and she said: "I don't know where to put him. I thought he was best off here, because you can sedate him. I'll be more careful."

"You better. If he so much as touches my son, I'll kill him." Misty hissed the words, not caring what of it Cage caught and marched into the house. She spent the rest of the day inside with him, getting other things on his mind and making sure he wasn't going to tell on them. He was a clever boy, but he was only three. His mouth couldn't always be controlled.

She played with him all day, kept his mind busy when Cordelia was there, so he wouldn't slip. Cordelia participated in the games a little, but mostly watched the two of them play. She let Misty put him to bed, spent only a few minutes alone with him when she said goodnight. Misty said a little prayer then, hoping Cordelia wouldn't find out. But she came out none the wiser, or Misty would have known. Her own brief panic would be a thin slice of nothing compared to Cordelia's.

Instead Cordelia announced that she was going to see Hank. A cold iron fist closed around Misty's heart at the mention of his name. She had forgotten that meeting. At first she said nothing, but as she heard Cordelia put on her coat, she couldn't endure it any longer. She went out to the hall.

"Please don't go", she said to Cordelia. She took her hand and held it tight, begged her.

"I only have to talk to him about his next playdate with Cage. And I promised to show him some of Cage's baby photos." She lifted a hand to Misty's cheek, stroked it with her thumb. "I won't be too long, I promise."

Misty shallowed the lump in her throat. Another icy hand had joined the first and latched itself around her throat, crushing all her words, but one: "Fine."

She stood back a few minutes later and watched Cordelia walk down the isle into the dark.

O0O

Cordelia took a deep breath before she knocked on the door. She wanted to run away. Maybe cling to the shadows of the hallway and disappear in them, so by the time Hank opened the door there would be nothing left of her.

But he did open and she was still there. She said a vague hello and went inside without touching him. A handshake would be too cold and anything more than that… she couldn't. He didn't object, only gave her a look that she wasn't sure she was meant to see and let her in. They sat down and discussed the plans like they were supposed to and Cordelia did her best to ignore his looks. The patience wasn't exactly a new thing with him, but it was a different kind of patience. He used to have a patience with her, only now he was downright willfully blind to certain things. As if he just ignored the signs, he didn't like and waited for her to show good ones.

At one point he laid a hand over hers and asked: "Are you okay?"

She snatched it right back. "Of course I'm not okay. Keep your focus. If you go by the park, don't stay out to more than six, okay?"

He nodded, kept his hand away from the table and asked if he could see the baby pictures instead. Cordelia gave him a stiff nod and took out the photo album.

She resumed the distance, but slowly she felt herself thaw out, open up as she explained the photos and spoke of Cage and the immensely short three years of his life that he had been fatherless. The subject provided safety and she told Hank of how he learned to walk, standing up against everything to earn balance. How his first steps were taken from a support of Fiona's leg and then two perfect steps into Cordelia's arms. Her heart almost cracked open with joy that day and now she found herself smiling at the memory.

"You should have seen Fiona's face. She looked almost as proud as he did himself. She likes to take credit, because she helped him stand up."

"I imagine she would spin it that way."

"She's not as bad anymore though, never as malicious as she used to be. Somehow Cage has brought out a kindness I was never able to drag out of her myself." She smiled at the notion, sighed with ease and then got up from the chair. "I should get home now. But it was nice to spend some time remembering. You can keep the album for a couple of days if you'd like. I've already looked at them so many times I practically have them memorized."

Hank got up too, more serious. "Don't go please. Stay here a while longer." And suddenly the icky tension was back in the room. It had been creeping up until this moment, kept at bay by the joyous conversation, but now rapidly leapt at them. Cordelia shook her head, when he took a step closer.

"I won't, Hank. I promised not to take too long."

"An hour is all I'm asking."

"No it isn't."

He sighed. "You're right. It isn't." He took a quick step forward and kissed her. His hands locked around her jaw with all his passion, but there was no bubble of reminiscing this time, no memory of long lost love.

Cordelia broke the kiss. "Hank, _no_ ", she said and pushed him out at arms length.

"You said that the last time too, but think of where we ended." He stepped close again, but Cordelia shoved him away, harder this time.

"I said no!"

The light fell in his eyes. "Why? What happened since last time and now?"

"The regret hit me." The words hit him hard. They were harsh and they cut her throat on the way out, but she had to say them. Or he wouldn't get it. "It was wrong of me to let you. And it stops now."

"What do you mean it stops now? What stops? You and I belong together, Cordelia! We both know it!" His eyes flashed with desperation and a lump grew in Cordelia's throat, but she resisted the urge to run. She tried to think back to the last and only time she had given him a clear message like this. But she wasn't broken enough today to keep the waver out of her voice. There was too much emotion in it and she saw how Hank fed on it. He begged with his eyes and said: "You know we would have grown old together if it wasn't for _her_."

"I know", she admitted. "I'm sorry our lives changed, but it was bound to happen. She has always been a part of the story and I can't see you anymore, if this is how you're going to behave. I won't deny you seeing your son, but-"

"But I want you!" He shouted. The desperation turned to anger as she watched it, but what pierced her wasn't the tone of his voice. It was the way he dismissed Cage.

"Don't you care about your son at all?"

"Of course I care!" He continued to shout, effectively removing all sincerity from his voice. "But I want the package I was promised! That witch fucked it all up! And when she was in this position you didn't say no, so why the fuck is this different? We have history too, four years of marriage! Two years of being together before that! Or does that count for nothing, huh? You made _no_ wows to that woman!"

She stared into Hank's face and found that at least his language hadn't changed much. She had resisted flight, but she couldn't hold the tears back. There was no stopping the guilt from washing through her, but she swallowed it, because his lack of interest in Cage drew out the distance Cordelia needed. She took a deep breath and then said, as calmly as her trembling voice allowed:

"Listen. I'm sorry it came to this. I can't forgive myself for being a person who does this. But being with Misty, even when I hurt you, was never a mistake. This was. I wish there was room for you both, but I know that can't be so. And I choose her, Hank. It's always been her. Even when I didn't know it."

He looked like she had hit him straight in the face with a curled fist. The shock, anguish and defeat fought for the front spot in his features for a few seconds, before he said anything.

"You can't be serious." His voice rang with disbelief, wavered like a leaf in the wind, ready to tear in half. His face looked suddenly empty. It hurt to watch, but she didn't take it in this time.

"I am serious. You can call if you still want to go through with the playdate, but don't call about anything else. It has to be like that. I'm sorry." Then she turned and left. She thought to take the photo album with her – in that moment she didn't feel like he even deserved to look at those baby pictures – but decided to leave it with him. She could claim the album later, when he had had the time to swallow the rush of emotion from this night. She hoped that maybe he would look at those pictures and think of his son, before he tried something foolish again.

She felt stronger tonight. Like a weight had been lifted, now that she had finally told him the truth. No that she had finally stopped her mindless walk down this cruel path. The first tears had dried on her cheeks and no new ones came. She was cried out over this now. She had realized he might not be the father picture after all and if her family portrait was broken anyway, she wouldn't regret leaving him for good. No matter the hurt in her chest.

Today she walked straight home. The sky was deep blue, not yet black. Cage would be in bed, but it wasn't late. There was still time for a good night. She had neglected Misty too much lately. Now she had to learn how to shallow the guilt and be a person again, for Misty's sake. And her own.

She locked herself into the house and walked the empty first floor. Fiona was at Cometh's tonight and it was like a ghost town down here at night. She couldn't see Spalding anywhere either. She wondered briefly if Misty had gone to bed already, but thought better of it. Instead she felt a nervous kind of tingle creep up on her. There was something in the atmosphere. Misty said she could taste things, emotions, in the air sometimes and this must be how it felt. It made cold run with her blood as she walked down the hall to their bedroom.

She found Misty sitting on the edge of their bed. Unfallen tears in her eyes and a look of confused devastation on her face.

Cordelia's heart immediately sank into the black abyss at the bottom of her chest. All color went out of the world.

"You know." She only had those two words to say and she choked them out as the sudden fall of her heart had knocked the breath right out of her.

Misty's voice was the deadest thing Cordelia had ever heard: "'Course I know, Cordelia."

A thousand thoughts rushed to her mind at once, impossible to sort out, but full of half-constructed, frantic ways of escaping what had just happened. As if she could somehow think up a way to annul this very moment, but didn't have the intellect to grasp the right thought and so the only words that came out of her mouth was: "For how long?"

It was the wrong thing to say of course. Nothing could have been worse. The admission was final and it threatened to overflow the quivering tears in Misty's eyes.

"Since the first time", she said.

Cordelia's heart kept sinking. It went so far down she couldn't feel anything anymore and despair blossomed in its place like a rotten flower, growing too fast. Her hand came up to her mouth because the rapid growth made her feel like she was going to be sick.

"Oh my God… Misty, no, please hear me." She stretched out the hand then, carefully, afraid sudden movement would set off this explosive atmosphere. "There was no second time. There won't be. I told him no. There was no second, please believe me!"

But nothing she said could have stopped the tears from spilling over. Misty cried silently at first, looking hopelessly trapped, staring at Cordelia all the while. She never hid anything from Cordelia, not even this pain. And the pain was obvious. Cordelia was frozen to her spot, still terrified to move and could only watch the scene before her with abject horror. Then Misty asked: "Why was there a first?"

Cordelia opened her mouth, but no words came out. She wanted to excuse herself, at least explain, but all she had was _I don't know_ and _I hate myself_ and none of these seemed even close to a proper explanation. Truth was she had none and it terrified her to realize it. She just stood there and watched Misty cry. Misty gathered herself, took some deep breaths and asked: "Why did you do it? I used to always be able to tell why you did things, but this… no. You gotta tell me, 'cause I can't figure it out."

"I don't know", Cordelia whispered. She had nothing better and she didn't have the willpower to stop it from spilling out.

"You don't _know_?" Misty got up from the bed, rapid fire rising in her voice and flashing in her eyes. The tears made them sparkle with fury. "What do you mean you don't know? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?!" She yelled out the words from the distance between the door and the bed, for once not careful to keep her voice down. The tears kept streaming down and the more silence Cordelia offered the angrier she got. "Say somethin'!"

"I'm so sorry, Misty. I didn't mean to, I don't know what came over me. It will never happen again." Her voice wasn't more than a choked whisper. She reached out, hoping the submission of her position would prove the point that she apparently wasn't able to articulate. But Misty put up a hand and stopped her, flashy blue eyes hard and uninviting.

"That supposed to make me feel better? You betrayed me! And worst thing is I ain't supposed to feel so hurt, 'cause I've been on the other side. When this was Hank and now I know how he felt!"

"I never meant to make you f-"

" _I hate him!_ " Misty screamed. "And you're makin' me feel sorry for him!" Her shrill voice cut through the room and Cordelia couldn't keep it in anymore. She fell back against the frame of the door and started sobbing, hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She felt unattached from her own body, floating above it, yet her mind was so heavy it felt like fighting a war just to keep standing. Misty stared at her all the while, crying without covering it up. Her eyes were red and the fire slowly went out of them. Same with all the light.

Her voice was mellow – no, _dead_ – and quiet when she spoke again: "It was different back then, I thought. 'Cause it was you and me, but I thought… I thought I was enough for you."

There was no pain Cordelia knew, which she could compare to the sound of the hurt in Misty's voice.

"You are- you _are_ , please believe me", Cordelia said as steadily as the crying allowed her. "I didn't do it because I wanted him, I- I don't know how to explain it, it was all chaos and I lost control."

"That makes no sense to me." She sniffled once, dried her face with the back of her hand. "I think I gotta go." Finally she walked towards Cordelia, but it was the door she was headed for and then the panic struck. Cordelia reached out and grasped Misty's hand, held on to it with shaking hands and begged as if her life depended on it.

"Please don't go. Please, I- you should, I know, you have every right to walk out, but please don't leave me."

Misty looked down at their hands and then up. She looked exhausted and empty in a way that made Cordelia's chest feel like it was made of hard, cold chains all wrapped too tight in each other.

"I won't leave you", she then said with her ghost of a voice.

"Then where are you going?" Cordelia tightened the grip around Misty's wrist. It gave her no response.

"To my swamp."

"But you said-" She stopped talking, when Misty pulled her hand out of Cordelia's grasp. There was no resistance. As soon as Cordelia felt the hand slip away, her entire body gave up the fight. Her hands fell down against her sides, abandoned and useless.

Misty looked at her one last time. A new tear rolled out and down her wet cheek, but her voice was steady when she spoke. "I said once that if you ever chose him over me I'd be sad, but I'd forgive you eventually. And I will. But not today."

Then she left the doorway.

"Wait!" Cordelia shouted, and it made Misty flinch as if struck by something hard, but she didn't turn around. "Isn't there anything I can do?"

She heard Misty breathe a deep sigh. "Stay out of the attic", she said. Then she started walking again and soon disappeared from the floor. Cordelia listened for the front door to open and as soon as she heard it slam, she broke down.


	10. Chapter 10

Fiona felt it as soon as she put the key in the lock. She wasn't one for getting visions and catching tastes in air, the way her swamp witch daughter-in-law did. The way Cordelia sometimes did as well. Fiona liked to work with what she could see and disregard all those little tingling senses until they gave her something concrete to go on. Still she felt this because the hints of this darkness was so thick it seeped from the creeks of the house even before she entered it. Once she stepped inside, she realized it was the sound of her daughter crying. It was a thin sound, so vague she couldn't separate it from the air on the outside, but in here there was no doubt of it. She walked straight to the kitchen, where the sound mixed with the scraping of service on a plate.

In the kitchen, she found Cordelia and Cage in the middle of breakfast. Fiona had the sudden thought that it wasn't a thirty one year old, but a young teenager who sat by the table, feeding her child. That was how Cordelia looked. Small, quivering and lost, so incredibly close to breaking that her toes must be peeking off that edge. She tried to conceal her crying with hands constantly wiping the tears away, but to no avail as the tears ran down her face in a steady stream anyway and the sounds of her misery still seeped through her lips.

"What's wrong, mommy?" Fiona heard Cage ask. He sounded worried and impatient, as if this wasn't his first time asking today.

"What happened?" Fiona asked, when Cordelia didn't even look up upon her entry. The dark premonition that she wasn't used to still poked at her. "Where is Mi-" She stopped herself when she saw the dramatic twist of pain in Cordelia's face.

Cordelia didn't answer at first, but kept her focus on the boy, guiding his spoon when he stopped eating. He was obviously too distracted by his mother's distress to eat and his mother was obviously too distressed to notice.

"Cordelia", Fiona demanded and Cordelia finally looked up. Fiona flinched at the look in her eyes. It was that haunted expression again. A knot tightened in her stomach at once. The thought entered her mind that psychosis had claimed her daughter again, yet she seemed too lucid. There was only an echo of it, a flicker of transient insanity in her gaze. Her eyes were red and desperate, but not empty. This was not madness but sheer heartbreak and Fiona felt momentarily awful about the immense relief, which washed over her. Then she collected herself.

"Go upstairs and lie down, child. I'll see to that he finishes."

Cordelia looked like she wanted to object, but stopped herself. Then lifted a hand and rubbed her temple. "Thank you", she said with a voice so thin it was barely there and got up from the chair. She walked right past Fiona with those slow, dazed steps that had Fiona second guess the madness and continued on upstairs. Fiona looked after her, not sure if she expected Cordelia to trip on the stairs or something, and then took her place at the table.

Cage stared after his mother as well and then back at Fiona with big worrisome eyes.

"Why is mommy sad?"

"Mommy is not feeling well today. You eat your breakfast now."

But he refused. He pushed the spoon away and gave Fiona a stern look. "Is it the talkers in mommy's head?" Fiona's eyes widened, but she kept from voicing her surprise. She had never heard him speak of Cordelia's illness. Until now she hadn't known that he knew of this aspect of it, but she would be lying to say she was surprised that he knew. Only that he spoke of it. Must be a trait Misty had taught him, speaking of those things best left alone.

"I don't know, darling", she told him. "Do you want your food or not? Your mom wants you to eat."

He shook his head and pushed the plate away as well. Fiona spent a good fifteen minutes trying to make him eat some of it and then gave up. She called Spalding out and told him to clean up, and to watch the kid. Then she made her way upstairs.

Cordelia wasn't done crying when Fiona found her. It had reduced to sniffles and silent tears, but it hadn't stopped. She sat on the edge of the bed she and Misty shared and hid her face in her hands. Fiona grabbed the box of tissues on the way and placed it beside Cordelia before she sat down. Cordelia reached out and picked one from the box to blow her nose. Then curled the paper into a ball and threw it on the nightstand.

"Now tell me everything", Fiona said. The sharpness had gone out of her voice and she tried with patience instead. She had abandoned the initial debate that Misty was somehow fatally injured, because she thought Cordelia's reaction would look more similar to the one she had when Hank died. Or when Myrtle had died. This wasn't like that and so Fiona guessed it was a kind of fight, only she couldn't remember that a fight – and they were few – had ever caused a reaction like this one.

Cordelia drew a deep, shaking breath and finally answered: "I think I've lost her." Her voice was just as fragile as it had been downstairs, thin like a withering piece of paper.

 _Nonsense_ , Fiona almost said and in her own head, it sounded just like Myrtle. But the look of heartbreak in Cordelia's face made her think twice and she packed Myrtle's optimism away.

"What do you mean you lost her?"

"I…" Then she started sobbing. Fiona put an arm around her and pulled her in. Cordelia resisted at first and Fiona felt awkward about her sudden need to hug her daughter. Finally, Cordelia gave in and leaned back against Fiona' shoulder, damp face at her neck, and she curled up to her as Fiona closed the embrace. She felt strange like this, but Cordelia didn't seem to notice. The story came out then, broken into pieces and backwards, the way stories do when the teller can no longer make sense of her own actions. But Fiona understood the meaning. She had the urge to push Cordelia out at arm's length and demand to know why she would behave with such idiocy, but resisted and kept her close until she was done talking.

Fiona couldn't help but think back to that night where Cordelia had admitted her relationship with Misty in the first place. It had been quite a shocker, but not for long, because the more Fiona had thought about it, the more it made sense. And not just because of her sister's hints some twenty years ago. This new revelation was just as much of a shock and what was weird was that it still made sense. But not to Misty, naturally, Fiona thought. She would never be able to comprehend the behavior of the broken mind of the Goode's.

When Cordelia seemed cried out, at least for a while, Fiona made her sit up and prepared for the hurtful but necessary speech she was about to give.

"Darling, I didn't object when it was Misty, because I knew you would choose her in the end no matter what I said. You two always belonged together. But _this_ is goddamn stupid and you know it. This is just you sabotaging yourself, because you can't accept that sometimes life is good to you. So you ruin it the best way you know how and you're good at that. Hell, I know what that feels like. I'm good at it too. But you _have_ to _stop_ repeating my mistakes!"

Her lower lip quivered, but Cordelia didn't cry this time. She didn't even look hurt, but Fiona thought it was mostly because she was already as hurt as she could possibly get, before Fiona entered the room.

"I don't think I can fix this", she said. The utter hopelessness of her voice grew a lump in Fiona's throat. But she swallowed, refused to make them both overflown with emotion. There was no space for that.

"I don't know either, but you can damn well try. There are many ways to cheat and if Misty can understand that your reason has nothing to do with her or your lack of interest, you've come that far."

"She doesn't want to talk to me."

"Not today maybe, but then you try tomorrow. Don't you dare give up."

"I know", she said, sniffled again and cleaned the tears from her eyes with a finger. A silence came over them and Cordelia's teary breathing filled the room for a few minutes. Fiona used the silence to try to imagine where Hank and Misty was right now. Misty had once come into the house with the quest to beat Hank up for hurting Cordelia. Fiona wondered if she planned to pay him a visit again. The fox would most likely make it out with his teeth rattling in his stomach.

Cordelia broke the silence then: "When you say repeating mistakes… Did you cheat on my father?"

Fiona scoffed. "I cheated with liquor and cocaine, but it had the same effect."

"Did you feel this awful about it? Because… Because being insane is the worst thing I've ever felt – second to this feeling. I can't be in my own skin because I hate myself so much for what I did. And I would gladly crawl back into that hole if I could, but I can't just stop being a mother to Cage. Did you ever feel like that?"

Somehow the sincerity of Cordelia's words found its way under Fiona's skin and where she used to brush off the issue, she spoke of it honestly this time: "I didn't. Because the things I took prevented me from feeling it. And _he_ wasn't as big a part of me as Misty is of you. But it did hurt, I'm just not as good a mother as you are, darling. I shut everything out, when your father grew tired of the fights and left. Including you. I don't like to let the world in, you have that from your father. Now, I don't miss him half as much as you will miss Misty, so you need to change the story while you can. This is important, do you understand?"

Cordelia nodded. "Yes, mom." She dried her eyes again, made a grimace and then rubbed her temple.

"And then you call your psychiatrist or I will." The sudden return of her sharpness made Cordelia's head snap up, but she didn't object. Only gave a silent nod.

O0O

Hank stared at his suitcase. He had packed it and he was ready to pick it up, slam the door and check out of the hotel. Check out of the entire city. Yet he hesitated. The pain in her voice when she rejected him kept him stuck to this fucking place, like a leash caught by a nail. And the thought of his family torn to pieces made him angry, too angry to let it go. He could see the pieces of it lying around like a broken puzzle and the edges didn't fit anymore so there was no way to solve it right. All because of that witch. That fucking amazon woman, who would probably try to hate Cordelia for that betrayal same as Hank and fail just like he had. She would want to and realize it couldn't be done. There was just no way. The only one who could ever truly hate Cordelia was Cordelia herself.

He skulked at the suitcase one more time, then kicked it onto the floor again, found his wallet and left the hotel room. Screw this. He would find a bar. What was sobriety worth anyway? The reason people refrain from being alcoholics is to not fuck their lives up with it. His life was fucked up anyway. Besides, there were theories to test. He was practically undead and he had always been curious to see if that meant he couldn't get drunk anymore.

It wasn't easy finding one. He still had to avoid all his old favorites. The paper filter allowed him at least enough thinking space to remember that. His old self would have blown holes in reason and gone straight to the usual, but this cool distance he experienced allowed him to think clearly. So long as he didn't think about Cordelia or Misty.

He hated the cold, to be honest. He wanted his feelings back. This dried out sense of feeling got old incredibly fast and nothing satisfied. Food tasted like pieces of wet cardboard, sleep was next to unnecessary and desires were all short-lived flames. Kaylee had almost made him feel something, but in the end she was just skin too. It didn't matter. Only Cordelia did. He wondered why she was different. Maybe because she was the only one he really loved in those hours before he died. His heart may be just a muscle now that all feeling had left it, but it kept a spot for her. Perhaps this was Misty's doing. Making sure that he would never stop missing her, even if the rest got caught in the paper filter. And fuck, he missed her. The sight of her, the taste of her, even the sound of her crying. She cried so much that it was one of the first things, which came to mind, whenever he thought about her now. That and her smile, when she was happy. Then the look of disapproval she used to give him, when he was behaving like a boy in trouble. The nervous laugh. It came to him last, but it lingered the longest. He loved that laugh.

She hadn't stopped haunting him. That was why he couldn't leave.

He circled around town for another hour before he stumbled upon a bar he hadn't visited before. Heavy steps carried him to the door and he went in.

It took him about four seconds to realize that it was the dumbest choice he could have possibly made.

O0O

Misty used to always take breathing for granted. It seemed a natural thing to do, as it didn't require conscious thought. Until now.

After leaving the Goode mansion she had run straight for the woods and stumbled through the door of her shack, faint and disoriented from the lack of oxygen. It felt as though she couldn't get the air down and she lay on her bed, hyperventilating. It seemed she had left her lungs behind, because there was only a big hole now, where she used to have something to help her breathe. When she finally caught air, she started sobbing and didn't stop until the light of morning came in through the windows. She thought she must have slept some, but her cheeks were still wet and her throat sore, when she woke up.

Now it was quiet. The rage had left her, same with everything else. She didn't feel anything. She tried to recall that period where Hank had found them out – she used to avoid thinking of Hank, because anything associated with him was just nasty and it was downright agonizing now, but she couldn't help it – and remember how he had reacted. She tried to imagine how he felt. The only thing she remembered was those bruises on Cordelia's arm and the thought gave her back a spark of anger. She would rather feed herself to the wild gators at the river than do something like that. She still couldn't fathom how he could possibly make himself do that, but it must be panic. That she felt. The anger too. Her anger wasn't directed at anything specific anymore, because aiming it at Cordelia ate her up from the inside and overshadowed her every thought and then she couldn't breathe again.

Misty sat up, tried to suck in a few deep breaths to clear the lightheadedness and then rubbed her swollen eyes. Her sight was still blurry in the daylight and her head felt so heavy. All the air she couldn't breathe had gathered up there around her brain and made it cloudy. Her legs threated to buckle when she stood, but held for some reason and she walked outside with wavering steps. Misty thought maybe this was how a hangover felt like. She had never had an actual one, but the nausea sure was real.

Nick lay outside in her garden, staring at her when she came out. He looked worried, she thought, and she almost smiled at him. It was just a reflex, yet even this had been dulled. The smile became a vague twitch at the one corner of her mouth and then she slid down onto the grass.

The alligator didn't move, only blinked once to let her know that he wasn't sleeping.

"I can't believe her, Nick", Misty whispered. Her voice was rough around the edges, torn by a long night of crying. She could still feel Cordelia's trembling hands around her wrist and she kept rubbing it, hoping the feeling would leave soon. That last touch was branded onto her skin and she thought she might go insane from it soon.

She kept expecting Cordelia to walk down that path between the trees, but she found herself hoping she wouldn't. Because if she did, Misty would scream at her more and the thought of that made the hole in her chest feel too big for her body.

The sun rolled over the sky in a full bow while she sat there and no one came. At one point Nick grew weary of her tears and waddled into the woods. Then she was alone with the harsh wind and her shattered illusions of love.

In the dark, a distorted memory came to her. A feverish dreamlike conversation with Papa Legba, in which he tried to trick her to stay dead. He had told her coming back to life might hurt her. She realized now that his words wasn't an empty threat, but a premonition. Maybe he knew this would happen. Maybe he really had wanted the best for her.

An hour later it became too much and she got up. Made her way out of the woods and into the city. She had the late shift at work today, but decided to show up early. She had considered staying away altogether, but thought she needed the distraction.

She found Jackson at his usual spot by the counter and sat down beside him. She didn't look to see his surprised face, only heard it registered in his voice.

"Misty! Ain't you a lil' early tonight?" He wasn't drunk yet, she noticed – or rather, he was closer to sober than in the small hours of the night. She thought to answer him, but had no clue what to say and stayed quiet. She picked at the bowl of peanuts and hoped her boss wouldn't come in here yet. The other girl tending the bar was someone new; Misty barely knew her name and couldn't recall it. The girl saw her, but made no motion to engage her yet, for which Misty was grateful.

"You okay there?" Jackson said.

"No." She decided honesty was the easiest thing. She cast a quick glance at Jackson and saw the worry in his eyes.

"Sorry to hear that. You wanna talk?"

"No." She could feel his gaze on her face and turned again to tell him not to look so hard. What she found was a scrutinizing stare.

"Strange seeing you like this. Don't think I ever have." He took a mouthful of his beer. "You and your woman had a fight?"

A cramp managed to form out of nothing in that hole in her chest. She sighed and said: "Yeah."

"Bad one?"

"Yeah."

"What happened? Kid trouble?"

Misty shook her head and kept staring into the space in front of her, so she couldn't look at him. "Don't wanna talk 'bout it."

"But I can't just sit here and let you be miserable alone. Lemme in on it at least. She kick you out?"

"Shut up", she snarled.

"She cheat?"

Another cramp pulsed through her and she closed her eyes for a second, as if darkness made it easier to endure. The hole in her chest grew. How could something that wasn't even there feel so heavy?

"Oh. Sorry, friend. Someone we can gang up on?"

"Ex-husband."

"Wow. That's bad. Hm, can I buy you a drink?" She gave him a tired look and he shrugged. "Dulls the pain, you know."

"I'll deal with my pain without that gross, sour stuff."

"This one ain't sour. Maybe a lil' bitter to a rookie." He slid his own beer across the counter and placed it in front of her. "Here, try."

Misty eyed the bottle suspiciously for a few seconds. Then grabbed it and swallowed a mouthful. The bitter taste filled her mouth, ran right past the hole and settled in the bottom of her stomach with the rest of the nausea. She grimaced and pushed the bottle back in front of Jackson.

"Yeah, takes some gettin' used to. I like the dark kinds." Misty didn't answer and they were quiet for a while. The background noise from the sparse amount of guests filled her ears for a few minutes and she tried to focus on some of them. Anything to keep her mind from circling.

"You know…" Jackson started. He looked serious as he pointed at her with the beer. "I like you two, but if you want I can fix you up with someone else. To forget for a while. I know some women too, if you'd like to stay in that half o' the field. Can't guarantee they're as pretty as yours, but-"

"I don't want nobody else", Misty snarled, infuriated by the suggestion once she understood it, but too exhausted to really show it.

"Right. You're possibly the most monogamous person I've met my entire life."

"I don't know what that means."

He raised an eyebrow. "Means I ain't sure your woman deserves you."

"Don't talk that way 'bout her, you don't know her!"

Her snarls drowned out the bell announcing the opening of the door, yet somehow the footsteps registered with her. The change in the atmosphere. Jackson was about to say something, but stopped when he saw her face change. Misty paid him no mind anymore. She turned around on the chair and found Hank standing in the doorway.

She didn't think. She lunged right at him.

The world tipped around her, but a frenzy had come over her, preventing her from feeling it. Neither did she feel the scrapes on her knees when they hit the wooden floor nor the pain in her fists as they collided with his face over and over. Bone hit bone, her knuckles and his jaw, and shouting filled the air. She barely even saw his face, not until some distance were added, when she was pulled off him.

"Misty! Misty calm down!" It was Jackson's voice shouting in her ear and his arms locking hers so she couldn't move. For a scrawny half drunk, he sure was strong. Misty didn't calm, but snarled instead, her eyes zoned in on Hank at floor level. His left eyebrow was more red than brown now, his cheekbone bloomed pink and his mouth was just as bloody. He breathed as heavily as she did.

"This the guy?" She heard Jackson ask.

"Yeah", she said through her clenched jaw. On the ground Hank's gaze found hers and they flashed with hate. Then he smiled.

Misty tore at Jackson's half nelson, her whole body aching to rip that smile off Hank's face.

"Hey! Hey!" Misty stopped withering for a second. Then Jackson asked: "You know this'll cost you your job, right?"

"I don't care", she hissed.

"Hm... Alrighty then." He loosened his grip. And Misty flew back into the fight. She knocked Hank over again and buried her fist in his cheek. She felt something break loose under her blow, but it didn't stop her from scratching, hitting and snarling at him. Only when the softer flesh of his throat touched her palm did she halter for a moment. With wild eyes, she stared into his cold gaze.

"Go on if you dare", he quacked, spitting blood out as he did. "Choke me. I can barely feel that."

That broke her trance. Before she could do anything more, rough hands ripped her off the floor with such force that she stumbled to her feet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Her boss bellowed. "You _stay_ there, don't move an inch!" He turned his back to take a closer look at Hank. Misty stared ahead, but saw nothing. Around her, all chatter had stopped, all eyes were focused on the scene that Misty barely felt a part of. She noticed that the music still floated from the jukebox, as the only thing in here untouched by the sudden violence. She looked down at her bloody fists, curled them up and then relaxed. She was done now.

Meanwhile, Hank had gotten to his feet and Cal was talking about getting him to a hospital, but Hank refused. Said he could go there himself.

"If you think so. Now do I need to call the police?" He looked at Hank first, "That won't be necessary", and then at Misty. She shook her head, but said nothing.

"Fine. Show's over, folks! C'mon, get back to your own business!" Cal's voice rung out over the entire bar and he started gesturing people away. It offered a few moments of limbo, moments that left Hank and Misty alone to stare at each other. Some still looked at them, nervous or excited at the prospect of them starting another fight, but neither of the two noticed.

"You didn't do me any favor by bringing me back", Hank said to her.

"I didn't bring you back for you", Misty snarled at him. Hank didn't get a change to answer, because her boss turned around when he heard Misty's acidic voice and walked up to her, thundering with all his mass heavying his steps.

"You don't say another word in here", he pointed his thick finger at her. She looked at it, then at his face. There was more sadness than fury in his eyes, but he tried his best to hide it. "Get the hell outta my bar. Consider your last change blown for good. What the hell's the matter with you?" The last he added in a much lower voice, one laced with disappointment more than anything else. Misty didn't answer him. She cast one look around, at Hank, at Jackson and then at Cal at last, before she turned around and left the bar.

O0O

Marie bent over the sink and washed the blood off her forearms with careful swipes. It hurt like no other pain in the world. Not because the scratches were deep, they weren't. Some of them were barely punctures. They hurt because they were made by tiny fingers and she had failed him again. All her potions were packed away now, the old spells put back in a little locket in her brain. There was no use for those anymore. She had given op for the day.

Just then her sister stepped into the bathroom. Her eyes fell on the bloody sink and they widened.

"Marie, what the hell is going on in here?"

Marie only shot her a glance and then bowed her head again to avoid the worry in her sister's eyes. "It's fine, Chantal. I'm done now anyway."

"It sure as hell ain't fine, look at your damn skin! You have to stop this!"

"I can't!" Marie shouted. "Not until I succeed!"

Chantal looked devastated and shocked at the same time. As if some part of her knew Marie would say just that, but the other part still couldn't believe it. "But you won't, don't you get that? You know I'm just now acceptin' that all of this is real, but they ain't forces to be messed with. It was almost funny when you had that fat ass cracker doing our beck n' call, but you're scarin' me now!"

Marie turned off the water, dried her hands in the towel and finally looked Chantal in the eye. With a voice as calm as the real dead, she said: "If you don't want no part of it, then leave. I ain't done yet. Not until that bitch and her entire family is _buried_."

Chantal ran a frustrated hand through her wild hair and then placed them at her hips. "No part? You know how much I loved him also! You know I'd love to chase that woman out of New Orleans if I could, but this revenge of yours is too extreme. How about you just bury your poor boy instead? No good havin' him lie there on-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. The mention of Damian was too much. Marie screamed, lunged forward and pushed Chantal away so hard she almost tumbled to the floor.

"You don't get it! I can save him! Don't try to stop me!"

Tears welled into Chantal's eyes and she slowly shook her head.

"You can't, honey. You think I'm too stupid to notice, but I heard your little spies. That girl's beau you trieda save, he ain't alive. He never gon' be alive. I was wrong to encourage you with this, okay? You can't possess the powers of the dead and expect to make life. That ain't how it works. I know that much."

"If you won't help, then leave me alone", Marie whispered.

Chantal gave her a long, hard look. She sniffled and nodded. "Fine." Then she left the doorway.

Marie swallowed her own hurt and went outside. She needed cool air on her face. It had been another hot day, but now at the brink of night there was a breeze cold enough to clear her mind. She walked away from the house, out to the borders of their small land. Then a little further. This was were the box was placed. Not on their premises – Chantal and the others wouldn't have it – but close. Walking distance, but not in line of sight.

She stared at the wooden lid. This box hadn't been used since she put Delphine in there from time to time. It was barbaric, locking someone in there, Chantal said. True, it was. But what Delphine did was far too cruel for a sweet word like barbaric. She deserved to rot in here. So did Fiona. She was just as bad in her own way. Letting all this happen. Brushing the incident off, leading the newspapers away, so no one knew what monstrous thing had happened in that house. And now her adopted witch child. Marie had thought she was just a kid, a simple girl who didn't know better, but then Marie had done her research.

This kid was no simple girl. She was wild; she lived with alligators as if they were her own kind. She aged slowly. She didn't think people noticed, but Marie did. She neared thirty now, but she didn't look a day over twenty two. Marie didn't give anything for the rumors in town on her sexuality – people like that who connected the heart's desire with witchcraft were either stupid or prejudiced – but the relationship with the wild animals caught her attention. The Louisiana swamp was vicious if you weren't careful. Marie knew that and she knew where the gators went. She had been at the swamp many times but the first time she ran into the Goode witch…

Marie thought Misty deserved just as much punishment as Fiona herself. But maybe a different one. And Fiona was still the main target. She was the root, the puppet master. The manipulator. She deserved to be stripped of power. Marie had thought the box would do, but now, looking at it, she wasn't so sure. In fact, she knew It wouldn't suffice. Even if Fiona Goode starved to death in that box, it wouldn't be enough. Because inside the box, Marie wouldn't be able to see the terror on her face, when she realized she was taking her final breath.


	11. Chapter 11

Cordelia felt the ground slipping beneath her and she didn't know how to stop it. The most awful part of it was she hadn't realized just how fast the depression had swallowed her up again until Fiona set her straight. Neither of them had put that word to her actions, but they both knew that was what drove her. Cordelia felt stupid for not realizing it herself. Even when faced with Misty's devastated reaction she couldn't piece it together. She couldn't pin down a single coherent thought until her mother finally forced her.

And now she had to fix it. She had to somehow make Misty understand this.

This morning she had received a call from Cal, the manager at the bar Misty worked at. With a voice that threatened to break, Cordelia had to tell him that Misty would not be able to answer the phone for a while, as she had moved out.

"Oh. Well then I need to know where to send the last paycheck. She usually just picks it up. I reckon she can just do that again if she doesn't want me knowin' her new address." And that was how Cordelia found out she had been fired. She asked what happened and Cal told her about the fight. It didn't take Cordelia more than two seconds to guess who she had attacked and she swallowed the lump of tears in her throat. She hung up then and went to the swamp.

The path seemed darker somehow. She had walked it in all kinds of light, she knew it like she knew her own house, which was an odd feeling considering how much the swamp still scared her. Even more now, with all that had happened recently. But it wasn't enough to keep her out today.

Still she was more nervous than she had ever been. The rotten growth beat with sickness in her chest, a pulse pounded in her head. The whispers at her ear kept trying to throw her off. She had never walked down the path, feeling this unwelcome. With every step she took, she reminded herself that she was walking straight towards the biggest knot of agony there was to find in her miserable world. But if there was even the slightest chance she could untie it…

The clearing came into view. It looked just like itself, yet not. The flowers weren't tended as well, which was probably the biggest change. The rest was in the air, but Cordelia thought maybe she was just imagining it, knowing what pain she had caused to inhabit the shack.

Nick lay by her garden, facing the path. She had gotten used to him over the years, and he her, but she wondered how much he was affected by Misty's hurt. Would he turn on her for hurting Misty? She neared with careful steps while contemplating this, her eyes fixated on him. But he didn't move at all.

Cordelia drew a deep breath in and out before she knocked on the door. Minutes stretched on into eternities of wondering if Misty would even answer her and if she should just let Nick eat her, before she heard steps on the other side of the door.

There was a second where she wished they could enter some sort of limbo, take a break from the real world and Misty would smile and pull her in for a kiss, once she opened. It wouldn't have to be a passionate one, just a sincere touch of what they had before Cordelia wrecked it all.

Then the door opened and it was a mere ghost on the other side. The expression on Misty's face told Cordelia that she already expected her, but it offered no relief. Her eyes were shiny with tears, her whole body guarded the way only Cordelia used to do it, the way she did when she was expecting to get hurt. Misty stayed on her side of the doorframe, uninviting in every way. That was the absolute worst; knowing she couldn't touch her. Knowing she couldn't feel Misty's loving hands on her body, toying with her clothes or just lingering relaxed at the small of her back. Maybe last time had been the last ever. When was that? Cordelia realized with dread that she couldn't remember.

Cordelia had meant to speak first, but the sight of Misty took her breath away like an insidious gush of wind and she couldn't get a word out.

It was Misty who spoke first, her voice rough and raw: "You shouldn't be here", she said. "It ain't safe 'round the gators."

"I needed to talk to you", Cordelia explained with an equally raw voice. Both of them sounded like one did, when having trouble breathing right. "I need to explain myself, I need to make you understand why I did it."

"I thought you didn't know."

"I do now, but it so hard to explain. It's confusing…"

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid", Misty snarled. Her eyes grew hard again, her jaw clenched. Fury shone through the shimmer in her gaze and reminded Cordelia that she had just beaten up a grown man. Hank was no bodybuilder, but he was of average building and not a weakling.

"No, I mean it's confusing for _me_. I can't believe myself either. I can't believe I'm capable of doing such an atrocious thing to you. But please believe me when I say that it's only because of my own demons. My feelings for you didn't change."

Misty's voice shook like that of a scared little girl's, when she said: "I don't know what to believe."

"Please, love", Cordelia begged. She felt her own tears building up and she was in no way as good at keeping them in as Misty. They ran down already. "You know me. You know I'll never stop loving you. I made the most terrible mistake, because I'm at war with my head again and I didn't see it coming. I've made an appointment with my psychiatrist to get help again. But the only thing important is that you…" She stopped to clear her breathing and sniffled. "That I can get you back. Please come home."

"I can't right now, Delia." Her voice broke at the end and the first tear fell out of her eyes. It sounded so final and a sensation of hot and cold rushed through Cordelia, out of balance. Too much heat behind her eyes, too much icy cold in her veins. The panic built again.

"This can't be it", she said and moved forward. "I miss you so terribly and Cage, he misses you too, won't you please-"

"Don't touch me!" Misty moved away and Cordelia froze in the middle of a motion, her outstretched hand trembling midair. All sensation left her then, the hot and the cold and she was barren, abandoned. Dizzy, confused anguish was the only thing she could shape a thought around.

Misty looked shocked as well, as if she hadn't expected to react that way. Her eyes darted from the hand – which slowly fell back against Cordelia's own hollow thigh – and back to her face. She shook her head just slightly and Cordelia wasn't sure she understood. Misty started to rub her own wrist with the other hand.

"Misty please…"

Misty shook her head again, her eyes more frightened than anything else now. "I can't, I don't know, I… Please just go home."

" _Please_."

"Go _home_." The fraction of force that came back into Misty's voice was Cordelia's undoing. She had no more fight to give, no more thoughts to think. She turned around and walked away with dazed steps, feeling that now she had truly lost everything. The click of the closing door behind her echoed in her soul for days to come.

O0O

The first thing Zoe did when she came in was chase the flies away from Kyle. The smell of dead was vague, so faint only Misty winced at it, but now Zoe started to notice it too. And all kinds of insects had certainly taken a liking to him. They crawled all over him when he lay still. At her entry he sat up and most of them crawled off. Only the flies were stubborn enough to wait for Zoe to chase them away.

"Zo-e", Kyle said and smiled.

Zoe closed her eyes for a second to gather strength and her grip tightened around the knife behind her back.

She didn't want to do it. She felt so alone at home that coming here to this undead shade of her boyfriend was a relief. But she couldn't let him stay like this.

"Hey Kyle", she said. He cocked his head to his side and it looked a little like he used to do it only more exaggerated. As if death had made him more theatrical somehow. His overly slow way of talking felt the same way. Zoe sighed and sat down in front of him. The one hand was still hidden behind her back and the other she stretched out and brushed his hair out of his face. His hair always grew so fast – every other week she had to cut it for him or it fell down into his eyes – but now it didn't grow anymore. It fell over his forehead, dirty and ruffled, but not into his eyes, as it would have by now.

Kyle looked into her eyes and creased his forehead.

"You sad." It might have been meant as a question, but it wasn't said like it. She didn't answer and his eyes travelled to the hidden hand. He reached out and drew it forward, revealed the kitchen knife she had brought from home. His gaze returned to hers, then down again, then back up.

"Okay", he said and then Zoe started sobbing. She dropped the knife and covered her face with her hands.

"I-I'm sorry, Kyle! But I don't- don't know what to do with you."

Kyle peeled her hands from her face again and tried to smile. Tried to look reassuring, but his face didn't quite obey him anymore.

"I do it." He picked the blade up. He stretched out a hand and before Zoe had time to tell him to stop or even prepare herself, he slid his wrist.

For a few seconds they both waited for the blood to come. He had made a deep cut all the way up his arm. The right direction, not the short one you do like a cry for help, but the way you open up the entire vein. Yet no blood came. Nothing happened. They stared at the flesh-white cut in his arm and it was as if his body was made of wax. There was nothing on the inside.

"Hm", it sounded like he said. As if he was curiously fascinated to find that the cutting made no impact. Then he took the blade to his throat.

"Wait Kyle!" He stopped, with the edge of the blade poking at his greyish skin. "I don't think that works. I guess I should have known."

"Sorry", Kyle said.

Zoe shook her head and sniffled. She almost laughed at the absurdity of his apology. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

She left him after an hour or so and went to the one place she thought there was still hope. She had to try, for him. Misty was right, this was no life for him. For either. For the first time she just wanted to get out of here and she couldn't leave him behind in this state.

She remembered the way with only minor difficulty and found the clearing with Misty's shack. Fiona had told her Misty was out here now, but hadn't cared to elaborate. As curious – or worried more likely by the tone Fiona had used – as she was, Zoe had no energy resource to spare for whatever problem had caused Misty to move out here again.

Misty appeared after the third knock. Despite Zoe one-tracked thoughts, she forgot her words as soon as she saw Misty's face. The smile was gone, which was the weirdest thing. The light in her face had been eaten by a shadow so thick it was hard to believe Misty had ever been a smiley person.

"What happened to you?" She couldn't help asking.

"What do you want, Zoe?" The shadow inhabited her voice as well.

"Um… It's, um, Kyle." The tears came back and her throat tightened up as soon as she remembered what she came here for. "I don't know what to do with him. I-I tried, I mean _he_ tried to, um, to cut himself, but it didn't work. You're right, he can't live like this. Can't you take him? Can't you… kill him?"

Misty gave her a long stare. There was incredulity in her gaze, but most of it was exhaustion. She looked like someone who had given up on staying awake, but couldn't sleep.

"I don't think I have the strength to take the life outta him right now. But you can bring him here, I'm sure the gators can help. Might be a good idea to get him outta the house, since I ain't there to protect them no more."

Now she wanted to ask why Misty wasn't there, but the thought of feeding Kyle to the alligators, just like that poor little boy of Marie Laveau's got killed, filled up her head.

"Do you think they'll at least be quick? Will it even work?"

Misty shrugged. "I don't know. But it's your choice. Just keep him away from Nick. Go straight to the river, but don't go too far yourself, okay?"

Zoe nodded. "Okay." She turned to leave, knowing this was all the help she would get. She had taken the first step, when Misty's voice called out to her again.

"Zoe?" There was a waver in it that Zoe couldn't fit into her view of Misty at all. The insecurity of a little girl.

She turned again. "Yes?"

"How is Cage? You seen him lately?"

"No, I haven't been babysitting. Cordelia's been home sick for a week."

"Could you check on him when you get back? Just make sure he gets to go outside." The pledge in her voice was new too. Zoe never doubted that Misty loved the little boy like her own, but it was the first time she played the part of the worried mother, at least in Zoe's presence. She couldn't help but oblige.

"Of course. But Misty, why aren't _you_ at home? What's happened?"

Misty cringed at a thought, she didn't share. It looked like some horrible scene just passed her inner eye.

"Ask Cordelia", she said. "She's the one who should tell, if she wanna say anythin'." Then Misty shut the door and left Zoe alone.

When Zoe came back, she went to knock on the door instead of heading straight for the attic. Cordelia opened with the same ghost face Misty had, only it was a little more typical for Cordelia to look like this. Still, the despair in her eyes went deeper than what she used to let Zoe see.

"Can I come in?" Cordelia hesitated for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside. She didn't look ill, not physically anyway and Zoe had an inkling that her sick leave had more to do with the mutual ghostliness and less to do with viruses. She thought Cordelia knew she had this figured out, because she didn't voice any excuses.

Cage sat in the living room, playing with his cars. He looked happy and well fed and everything a child should, just as Zoe could have expected. Cordelia was not a bad mother.

"I… I was just at the swamp", Zoe said. She figured it was no use hiding it, but when Cordelia cringed even more visibly than Misty, she wished she could take it back. Even Cage noticed the sudden pain in the room and he looked up at his mom. Cordelia sat down on the couch and Cage waddled his way over to her. She picked him up with a sad smile and placed him on her lap. They looked at each other for a moment, as if there was nothing else in the world. Zoe thought it was odd, yet beautiful to witness a three year old so obviously trying to comfort his own mother.

"How is she?" Cordelia asked, her eyes still on Cage.

Zoe contemplated lying, afraid of making Cordelia cry. She looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. Zoe settled for something in between. "She, um, didn't look so happy, but she's okay I think."

Cordelia made a breathy kind of laugh, more a scoff than anything else. She finally looked up. "You're sweet, Zoe. Did she sent you here to make sure I don't keep Cage locked up all day?"

"Um…"

"I'm sorry, that was harsh. I just know she's thinking along those lines. But we shouldn't put you in the middle of this, it's childish and unfair to you."

"It's fine, Cordelia, but can I ask… What happened? Misty said to ask you."

"Did she?" Cordelia nodded as if to say 'of course she did'. She swallowed once and a hand went to her temple, rubbing it. Cage saw this and reached up to touch her face.

"It's okay, mommy", he said in a soothing voice too mature for a small child. Cordelia smiled and hugged him closer, whispered "Thank you, darling" into the top of his blonde head.

Zoe was stunned into silence by the exchange that went on between them. The moments in silence felt like they stretched on into minutes, before Cordelia gathered herself and looked up again.

"I was unfaithful. That's the short version. I've been struggling with my illness again lately and it escalated. That's all I can tell you."

"I'm sorry", was the first thing Zoe could think to say. Inside, the picture of their perfect relationship shattered and she felt selfish for getting mad that her role models were no less fucked up than the rest of the world. That look she always cherished, when she saw them together, suddenly it felt unreal. As if she had been painting a much too rosy picture of them, blind to their imperfections, not wanting to see them because she hoped she and Kyle could achieve greatness just like that. The past months should have told her greatness like that doesn't exist. "But I thought…" She started again, unable to keep from it. "I thought you were better? Like cured?"

Cordelia smiled and Zoe thought to herself that not many people could smile and yet look so miserable.

"Better perhaps, but there is no cure for being insane", she said. Zoe didn't know what to answer and so the statement hung in the air alone for a while. At last Cordelia said: "Zoe, I would appreciate it if you kept the things I've told you to yourself."

"Oh, yeah totally! I mean of course I'm not going to say anything. I promise." She nodded to emphasize her words. "I hope you figure things out. Just let me know if I can do anything to help."

"Thanks, that's sweet of you."

She got up then. "Sure. I'll leave you alone now. I'll gather my things from the attic. I don't need the room anymore."

"Is it Kyle up there?" Zoe froze and unluckily it was with her face still turned towards Cordelia, her shocked expression giving everything away. She expected a reaction of shock or some sort of disgust, but Cordelia only said: "I figured, when Misty told me not to go up there. And there has been a few noises, which I try to ignore. And flies- no, don't tell me anything. I don't need to know, unless you want to tell me. I will just say that I'm here in return, if you need anything."

Zoe nodded. "Thanks. But I'm moving him now, so don't worry."

She left before Cordelia could say more.

Kyle followed her eagerly all the way through town. It was a quiet afternoon and they saw no people on their way. Kyle barely even resisted it, when they entered the forest, only kept his cold hand in Zoe's as she lead him down the path, walked along the outskirts of the clearing and down towards the river. Here she threw her arms around his cold, unresponsive body and pressed herself to him one last time.

"I love you, Kyle. But you've got to go now."

When she released him, he looked down at her with a rare clarity. She knew then that he understood everything. But it changed nothing. He touched her hair and tried to smile.

"I lo-ve you Zo-e."

Then he turned and walked down the path to the river.

O0O

Hank was more careful with his choice of bars now. Not because he was afraid to take another beating. The two teeth that fucking witch had knocked out of his mouth didn't hurt him anymore. In fact they never did. She threw a mean punch, he would give her that. But it wasn't to avoid her. It was to avoid being seen altogether. He couldn't risk people finding out who he was, it would cause too much trouble. And he had made a visual spectacle the last time he was out, so he went to the farthest end of town for his drinks now. To a part where people only stared because his skin color wasn't the most dominant anymore. He didn't care. He minded his own business and so did everyone else. No one talked to him, because he didn't invite conversation and the few who tried, he shut down.

Until she came in.

Women were honestly a rare sight at his new bar of choice. For this reason alone, he noticed her the second she walked in. And she noticed him, walked straight to him when she did. She was too beautiful for him and too confident to settle for him. That golden skin, those flashy eyes, her style. He would look so scruffy next to her. That was the only thought he had time to think, before she sat down in front of him at the stall.

"You're Hank Foxx, ain't you?"

He shook his head. "No I'm not." After realizing he had to start a new life with no ties to the old one, he had renamed himself Ben Wolfe and this was the name he used wherever he went. Especially here in New Orleans. But this didn't throw the woman off the slightest. She only smiled.

"No, you're not", she said. "But you used to be." He looked at her more closely and her smile grew sinister. "You were married to Cordelia Goode."

He said nothing, but he knew his expression gave him away. There was something about her, which triggered him. It was the feeling of an aura, not the same as the strength he felt vibrating in the air around Misty, but very similar. A sort of unearthly power. It was vague – he doubted he would have noticed if he hadn't encountered such vibrations before.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Marie Laveau. Little birds have told me you and I have a common enemy."

"Who, Misty?" He said it before he could think. His second thought was Fiona, but Misty came to mind first these days. Her face showed up in his thoughts every time he felt the holes in his dentures with his tongue.

Marie Laveau's gaze grew dark. "Throw her in the mix. I meant Fiona Goode."

"Yeah, she has been on my list too."

"Not as long as she's been on mine, believe me." Hank didn't like to admit it, but the woman's tone scared him. Somehow he knew that whatever plans for revenge he had, hers were greater. More importantly, she intended to go all the way. One look at her face and he knew that.

"So what do you need me for?"

"I assumed you know where to find Misty. She ain't at home these days. Packed up her things and left."

"How do you know?"

"I've got eyes everywhere", she just said, flashed him another one of those sinister smiles. His old self would have been terrified by now, but the paper filter took most of the blow. He only felt slightly uneasy. He drank from his beer to cover up the unease.

"If you have eyes everywhere, why don't you know where Misty lives?" He halfway regretted saying it, but he felt he had to. As if he in some way needed to make sure he was really needed.

She scoffed with laughter, nodded at him. "Birds need to know where they gotta fly to first time."

"And what do I get out of it?" He asked instead. Marie Laveau raised an eyebrow at him.

"I thought that was obvious? You get revenge. You have the intel, I have the means."

"Exactly what means do you have?"

"You ain't heard the rumors?" He had, now that she mentioned it. It ran through these parts of town often. Voodoo Queen. Enemies disappearing or suddenly obeying her. A boy turned undead. That one was new and much speculated. Hank had brushed it off, much like most of the others did. But he would have done the same thing with Misty. And he couldn't deny _that_. Marie seemed to notice his internal debate and caught his attention again with a nod of her head. "I assure you all the rumors are true. But I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

Hank thought about it. He had run out of questions and so he nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll tell you. But you have to promise that whatever revenge you have planned, it doesn't hurt Cordelia."

She sat back, crossed her arms and looked at him. Measured him with her dark eyes. "Fine", she said then. "I can leave her alone. Does this also mean I gotta stop givin' her nightmares?"

O0O

Misty hadn't seen anything to Kyle or the gators since yesterday when Zoe came out, asking Misty to kill him – or whatever her abilities would do to him. She had kept Nick by the garden, just to be on the safe side. She didn't trust the forces, which resided in Kyle now. Not with the way they responded to her. And if a knife made no impact, like Zoe said, she wasn't confident alligator teeth and claws were any different. But he hadn't showed up and she sensed no turmoil from the river. She was content with that. There were other things taking up space in her mind.

That evening there was a new set of knocking on her door. Misty growled to herself, considered not answering. Maybe then all the damn intruders would go away. She knew it wasn't Cordelia and the rest of the world could wait outside the forest until she felt like dealing with it.

"Misty! I know you're in there, don't make me stand out here with your goddamn reptile watchdog!"

Misty growled again and went to open the door to Fiona.

"What do you want?!"

"I came to talk to you", she said and ignored the snarl in Misty's voice. She went in without invitation and took a quick look around the shack. There was still a faint stain in the wooden floor from when Misty was stabbed by Delphine and Fiona winced at the sight.

"Why you prefer this over an apartment I will never understand, but I suppose I do get the need for distance at the moment."

"Spit it out", Misty said. She stood by the door and waited impatiently for Fiona to settle on the chair, cross her legs and look up at Misty.

"I've taken it upon myself to help you kids set things straight, because you don't seem to have any clue how to do it and frankly this situation is bad for my liver. Which I also need you to look at. It's a goddamn disgrace to drag a sick woman out here for treatment, I'll tell you that-"

"If you've come here just to make excuses for her then go to-"

"Of course I have", Fiona interrupted. "But reasonable ones. If you think I'm not siding with my own daughter then you are far dumber than I give you credit for."

Misty snarled, a sound animalistic enough to scare most away, but Fiona only gave her a stern look.

"Spare me, kid. Now listen. It took me a long while to accept that you know my daughter better than I do myself, but I have now. I accept it. I'm even happy about it, because the best possible person will be left with her, when my traitorous body finally drives me out of it. _But_ there is one thing that I understand about her, which you never quite got and that is her self-destructive habits."

"I get it enough", Misty said, thinking about all the cuts she had healed. She understood the need for control, the channel of pain even if she had never felt those urges herself.

Fiona shook her head at her, so calmly it made Misty want to scream at her. "No you don't. Because you still think this unfortunate event has the slightest to do with you, do you not?" Misty reluctantly nodded. "It does not. You are not of my blood, even if I were your mother at one point and so you have not inherited our flair for self-destructiveness. We have perfected it over the years and Cordelia sure is a natural. You see, she is used to being miserable, because she has been for most of her life. It's how she recognizes herself. When you came back, she was still miserable, because she used it to ruin her own marriage. Then it all worked out, the fox left – I must remember to thank you for that by the way – and you've got Cage. That boy is a blessing and we all know it. She has never been happier. And she doesn't know how to deal with that. So she did what she does best."

"She ruined it", Misty finished. She wanted to tell Fiona to shut up with her cruel analysis, but couldn't. Because it fit. And Misty hated to admit the fraction of relief she felt. She thought maybe Fiona saw it.

"Misty, you're too wise to believe that she doesn't love you anymore. Now it's time to forgive her."

The trance broke at that and the heaviness came back like a raincloud in fast-forward.

"You can't just tell me to forgive her, doesn't work like that", she snarled and started to pace. "Just 'cause you give me an explanation. She still hurt me."

"And you hurt her", Fiona said. She followed Misty's movements, made sure she heard. "When you left. She forgave you for that. Faster than I did, I might add."

"I don't care what you forgive or not."

"I know", Fiona said and stood up. "Are we good here? Because I need a hand." Misty growled, but went to heal Fiona and give her another week without pain.

"She still loves him", Misty mumbled as she lifted Fiona's clothes to expose the skin covering her liver.

"Sadly, yes. As much as I wish she never did, it's true."

"That part you can't explain away."

Fiona didn't answer and just then the energy started to flow. Misty didn't say anymore, but concentrated on the task at hand. They didn't talk when she was done. Fiona left, which gave Misty the silence to let her thoughts flow free. They poked and scratched and offered some relief and Misty admitted that she was tired of breathing through that hole in her chest.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys, just a head's up. I've got exams coming up and I'm battling a minor hand injury on top of that, so the next couple of chapters might be a more sporadic. Promise I won't forget you though. And as always thank you so so much for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

Cordelia took to cleaning up after she had put Cage to bed. Fiona was not home today. She had offered to stay, but Cordelia had told her no. She wouldn't feel better with her mother staring at her all night. If she was to be alone from now on, Spalding was a better shadow than her. He only offered condoling glances once in a while and that was about all she could handle without breaking into tears. The pain never subsided, the guilt never eased. The blame never stopped whispering in her inner ear. God, how they tormented her. She deserved it, yes, but it was with no end and even the prospect of restarting the antidepressants didn't bring her relief. While she no longer suffered the persistent nightmares, taking these drugs sometimes made it feel like everything was a cloudy dream. A haze of indifference. She couldn't decide if she feared reentering the dull grey perspective of the world or if she welcomed it. Maybe if she felt a little less altogether, the day wouldn't seem like such a battle just to get through.

She went to the bedroom after she was done cleaning the first floor. Cleaning up gave her something to do, something to put her mind to. By now Cage was sound asleep and she could move around the second floor without the risk of waking him up.

The bedroom had become quite messy over the past week. She spent as little time in here as possible, because it just hurt too much to notice what was missing. Only now had she found the strength to endure it and she started by picking up her clothes from the floor. Misty's too. The smell of her lingered with them and it brought tears to Cordelia's eyes. She took a deep breath, refused to cry this time. Crying took too much out of her day and she was trying to be efficient for once.

The sound of footsteps on the hall outside entered her mind, but strayed from her consciousness until it came into the room and the door shut. Cordelia stood up then, a vibration of premonition in her body, and turned around.

And there was Misty.

A pulse raced in her body already, making her feel like she was trembling all over. She was used to seeing despair in her own reflection, but seeing it in Misty's eyes like that hit her harder than anything she could remember. The ghost from before was gone now and there was a hardness in Misty's crystal eyes, along with a load of other emotions, changing as Cordelia watched her, as if she couldn't settle on one. Her jaw was clenched tight, her hands fisted at her sides. She was immobile, only stared without a word.

Cordelia dropped the shirt in her hands and stared back in shock for a second or two, bracing herself.

Then she asked: "Do you hate me?"

Misty didn't answer, but moved instead. She took the four steps across the room, pulled Cordelia close with a swift, rough motion and caught her in a fierce kiss.

Desperation exploded in Cordelia's chest.

She grasped to pull Misty closer, gasped at the sudden change of feeling in her body and fought to keep up with the kiss. It was hard, ruthless and needful and Misty's hands were holding her so tight, her fingers were digging into Cordelia's neck. Confused as she was, she surrendered all the control to Misty without conscious thought. Misty pulled her to the bed and Cordelia followed without protest. She wanted words, a part of her really needed that question answered, but it seemed Misty had no words to give. Her skilled hands had already maneuvered Cordelia's t-shirt off and now they pushed her onto the waiting mattress.

"Misty-" She began, but was silenced by another deep kiss. It possessed a hunger Cordelia couldn't shake; it woke her own and it started a battle within her, one side wanting to clear the air before behaving so savage-like and the other just aching to give in.

Misty climbed over her, straddled her and pinned her down so she couldn't move. It was different from what it used to be, much headier and far more aggressive than it had been in a long time. A shift in balance. Misty started tracing kisses down her throat, not quite biting, but still claiming her skin in some way. The second party of the battle was gaining fast. Cordelia tried to keep her head clear, foolishly tried to come up with something to say, but failed when Misty fixed her bra open and threw it away. Fingers found one of their favorite spots and it made Cordelia shiver.

"We should-"

"Don't talk", Misty said and caught her lips again. There was no smile on her face, the usual gentle insistence gone. Fingers twisted just a little and Cordelia moaned into the kiss. Misty's teeth dragged over her bottom lip and then she moved down. Throat, ear – even Misty's heavy breathing sounded angry – collarbone, chest, stomach. Cordelia's own breathing sped the lower Misty got. She ached so immensely now and she felt like she shouldn't, because it was backwards somehow, but then Misty's hand was on the inside and _God_ it felt good to feel her again.

Her cleaner side lost the battle then, the aching took over and she reached up to rid Misty of her dress. She wanted skin, she wanted to feel her, make her squirm the same way. But when her hand came close, Misty snarled and stopped. She withdrew her hand and pinned Cordelia down again. For just one silent, breathless moment, their eyes met and Cordelia understood what Misty wanted. Or rather, didn't want. Her eyes were full of despair and Cordelia couldn't find words or emotions to argue, only beg to be let in. But Misty refused. She went down again, before Cordelia found words, and when Misty tore off her skirt, left her exposed, the last of her rational thoughts scattered. More than anything else, Cordelia wanted to feel her, to feel something other than this devastating guilt and loss. She couldn't help it; she missed her with every cell of her being.

Misty's lips ran out of stomach, teeth drew back, but the kisses went on. Cordelia whimpered and arched into the touch. The desperation in her chest took new form, changed color and flooded her entire body. With her hands banned from touch, she clawed at the mattress instead and for just a moment all irrelevant, negative emotions left her. There was only light and heat and _this_.

When she came down from the high, Misty was panting with her, watching her and Cordelia forgot. She lifted her hands and ran them up Misty's arms. Misty instantly shook them off, but Cordelia tried again only to have herself pinned down by the wrist with a harsh grip. For a second Misty wavered, only a second before she bent down to suck on Cordelia's bottom lip. Cordelia tried to cup her face and Misty frantically pushed her hands aside.

"Don't", she snarled. Her voice shook now. She straddled Cordelia again, holding down her entire body and still keeping that blaze alive. It was the passion, which gave Cordelia the strength to keep insisting.

"Stop it!" Misty hissed and held down her arms on each side, hands trembling against Cordelia's wrists. There were tears in Misty's eyes, when their gazes locked.

Everything stood still.

"If you still want me then stop fighting me", Cordelia said in a calm, warm voice.

It was Misty's defeat.

Her tears spilled over and she started crying. For several endless seconds the only sound in the room was the sobs wrenching from Misty's throat. Cordelia was trapped, bound to stare up into the face of the damage she had done. A tear fell out of Misty's eyes and down onto her naked chest.

"I can't lose you", Misty whimpered with what little air she had. "I can't- I can't _breathe_ , but I just- I'm still- I'm so mad at you."

It felt like an iron fist punched through Cordelia's chest and then something sharp and icy made its way from her broken heart and out into the cavity of her chest, spreading the splintered pieces around. It tickled with pain everywhere.

"Oh I know. I know and I'm so sorry, Misty", she said, on the verge of crying herself. "God, I'm so sorry, love."

Finally, Misty caved. Her arms gave up on holding her and she crawled down beside Cordelia, sobbed against her shoulder. Cordelia put her arms around her and hugged her close. Misty's one hand curled into a fist on top of Cordelia's chest as she wrapped herself up in the embrace like a tiny little thing, tears still rolling out and onto uncovered skin.

"I need you", she choked out in between crying. "So you can't choose him. You can't push me away."

Every word felt like a stab to the chest. But at the same time Cordelia felt that frantic need in Misty's embrace, as she trembled next to her. It made the need for reassurance take a backseat to her urge to comfort Misty and make her feel safe again. Cordelia stroked her wild hair and shushed her gently.

"I'm here, darling. I promise. Know that you are the only one in the world for me. I'm not saying this to pressure you to forgive me. I'm only saying that I will wait forever if I have to."

Misty's crying subsided to sniffles. Cordelia's neck was now damp with breaths and tears, but she took a strange comfort in it. She fumbled for the covers, which had been curled down at the foot of the bed, and pulled them over them both. Misty didn't utter another word, but nestled close instead. It felt a little bit like when they were both children and Misty needed to have her close, because the nightlight made her uneasy. Cordelia only tugged the bed cover tighter around her and kissed the top of her head. If safety was what she could offer, she would settle for that.

The exhaustion in her younger lover was so absolute that she fell asleep within minutes. Cordelia stayed awake for another hour, listening to Misty's calm, untroubled breathing. It was the sound of peace and Cordelia fought to believe that it really was just that. Only when the truth sunk in just over midnight did she give in to her own conflicted tears.

O0O

"Marie! That white girl whose name I can't remember is in the shop for you!" Chantal had taken to shouting through the door instead of knocking these days. Marie knew she was too scared to walk into the room and find it full of blood again. And neither of them had forgotten their last conversation. It lay between them like a patch of black, a great abyss neither dared to jump over. Chantal for her fright of the sudden shift in the atmosphere, which the darkness Marie's powers had brought with them, and Marie because there was no way she could go back.

Marie didn't listen. She had eyes staring back at her, big brown eyes and they might be glossy and injured, but they were open and they had life.

"I've done it", she whispered, afraid to speak or cause a motion that might startle him.

"Marie! I know you're in there!"

"Keep your voice down!" Marie hissed at her. Then she looked at her child again. He still lay down, like an oversized baby on a nursing station and stared up at her with quiet wonder. Then his eyes began to wander around the room, orbiting around in their uneven sockets while the rest of him lay still.

"Baby, can you hear me?"

Eyes on her again.

"You can", she whispered and the tears rushed to her eyes. For a moment, all thoughts of revenge went away, fell from her head as thoroughly as had they never been there in the first place. None of it matter now. "You can."

A hard knock. "What's going on in there?"

"Lie still, baby", Marie whispered to Damian and went for the door. She opened at crack to her sister's surprised face. The shock intensified when she caught Marie's tears.

"What did-"

"Can you send her in here? The girl. I can't leave the room."

"What's happened, Marie?" Chantal urged and tried to push through the crack, but Marie stopped her.

"Later! Now go get her."

Chantal looked like she wanted to argue, but turned on her heal instead and marched out to the shop. Marie went back to the table, where Damian had only turned his head to follow her movement.

"Baby, can you try to sit up? Sit up for mama please."

At first he did nothing. He only lay there and watched her. Marie stretched out a slightly trembling hand and touched his cheek, the one that was whole. It was colder than she expected, but she remembered from the other boy, that it would be like that. She ran a hand through his thick black hair, stroked his cheek again. All cold, but responsive. He responded.

She had managed to save his right eye, but it hung loosely from the socket. His face bent inwards at the right side, but the skin went all the way over now. His right arm was completely gone and there was only a stump for the right leg. But he was still the most beautiful boy in the world. Her little miracle boy. His father could leave, the witch in the forest could curse him, Papa Legba could try to take him, but Marie would have none of it. And here he was again. They would figure something out for his legs. He would walk again. He was so young and young boys learned fast.

Finally, she lend him her hand and his little fingers grasped for it. Then ever so slowly, he began pulling himself up. He almost tipped as the right part of his limps weren't there to keep his balance, but he stayed up. His glossy eyes followed her and his little left hand reached up to touch her tears. It only made her cry more.

"Oh my little boy!"

Knocking again. "Marie? She's here."

"Sit still, Damian, do that for mama, okay?" He didn't move, but stayed put when she gently wiggled her hand out of his grasp and took a step back. Then he made a sound, a feeble, breathless cry. It sounded like a hiss of a furious wind, too weak to be a human voice. Marie looked down at his scarred neck and thought perhaps his vocal cord had been damaged too.

"It's okay, baby, I'm right here. You can see me all the time." She walked towards the door and didn't turn her head away from Damian before she reached it. Then she cracked it open again. Chantal stood ready on the other side with the visitor.

Marie regarded her first: "Hello Emily. Do you have my item?" She had meant to berate the young nurse for taking a week to get back with it, but now she couldn't find it in her to care. She didn't think she really needed it after all, but it had to be dealt with either way, so Emily could go on to forgetting everything.

Emily nodded. From the inside pocket of her bag she drew out a little plastic bag. It looked empty upon first glance, but a closer look revealed a few strands of blonde, curly hair. Marie snatched the bag from her grasp.

"Thank you. You can leave now. And _remember none of this_." The last came out not in English, but in old words of a forgotten language, taught to Marie through the powers she had been granted. A flicker of haze came over Emily's eyes and she gave a sedated nod. Then she left.

Chantal gave Marie an insecure glance and looked after Emily as she went back to the shop and then home. She never asked about the spells or the strange words, but instead nodded at the half closed door. "What's with all the secrecy?"

"I'll show you." She couldn't keep the smile away any longer. "I did it."

"You did what?" Chantal asked, but the look in her eyes made it appear as though she had already guessed. Just that she didn't believe it. Marie stepped aside and gave Chantal full view to her miracle.

Chantal gasped and her whole body stiffened.

"How did… I'll be damned, Marie, how in hell did you do this? _Again_?"

Marie couldn't speak. The awe had overwhelmed her and she only watched as Chantal inched closer to the little boy. They used to be best friends, those two. She was always the one to take care of him, when Marie was busy, almost a second mama at times. Chinwee had his moments with Damian, but Chantal was the one he went to. She had no children and loved him like her own. Now the tears had her tongue-tied too and she stared at him with wild wonder. She didn't notice all the things missing either, only saw how much of him was still there. His glossy little eyes followed her closely until she was just a few inches from him.

Then he screeched, a wheezing, blood-curling sound, and lunged at her. With his half-wrecked mouth and the teeth remaining, he latched himself onto her upper arm and began tearing at it until the blood started to spring and with his remaining hand, he clawed at her face. All the while screeching like a crazy whistle of air. Chantal screamed and flung her arm about, jerking it to get the child off. She screamed for Marie, but Marie was frozen. She watched as one last rough jerk made her little boy fly through the air and into the corner of the room with a loud thud. Chantal bolted for the door, screaming and crying as she ran out and down the hallway. Damian made a move to follow, but Marie shut the door, before he could do so. Instead he stayed in the corner, uttering low, wheezing snarls and scowling at the door.

Marie felt her newborn hope crackle like a piece of dry wood in that hissing wind. All the dark thoughts that was exorcised from her mind not ten minutes ago came back with renewed force. She stared at her boy for a moment and then curled her fist tight around the plastic bag in her hand.

"Well then", she said, mostly to the air, but a little bit to Damian also. "It's come to that. Let's get the potions out, baby. Time for some _Goode_ ol' revenge!"

O0O

When Misty woke up, she was alone in the bed. She didn't realize it at first, because everything smelled of Cordelia, even her own skin, and it made her feel an ease she had missed in weeks. The previous night came back to her slowly, just enough for it to cramp in her chest a little, just enough for her to feel ashamed for acting so damn immature, but not enough for her to regret it.

She crawled out of bed and went to the closet for clean clothes. It was still here, all the things she hadn't moved. There was something odd about this, acting as if it was just another morning, when she wasn't even sure what she wanted yet.

Once dressed in clean clothes, she made her way downstairs. Spalding came out to her from one of the rooms, he appeared to have been cleaning, and gave her a smile.

"Hey Spaldin'", she said as she passed him. She even had room to smile back.

She found Cordelia in the living room, on the floor with Cage. She looked up as soon as Misty entered the room, the look in her eyes speaking of both caution and hope. She started to move all the toys Cage had placed on her, but Misty stopped her.

"No, don't get up", she said and Cordelia stayed put. Misty's voice was soft; she couldn't be angry anymore, and she knew Cordelia heard that. Relief shone in her face.

Then Cage caught up, spun around and saw her.

"Mama!" He wasted no time, but got to his little feet and ran to her. "Mama you home!" He wrapped his arms around her legs and she bent to pick him up. Then he flung his arms around her neck and Misty smiled into the air. A rock she hadn't even realized was there, fell from her heart. She had been so focused on Cordelia she had almost forgotten how much she had also dreaded losing Cage.

"I've missed you, baby boy. You've been good to mommy?"

"Yes", he said with a sing-song voice. How little it took to make kids happy. He grinned as if nothing had happened. Misty remembered she used to be like that.

She walked over to Cordelia and sat the boy down between them. For a while they just looked into each other's faces, read what was to be found there. Another apology. Longing to be one again. Understanding. And finally, acceptance.

"I forgive you now, I think", Misty said and Cordelia's face lit up so fast it made Misty's heart skip a beat. "But I can't come home just yet, I gotta- I needa be by myself for a couple more days."

Cordelia nodded, but she couldn't stop the tears from watering up her beautiful eyes. One spilled over and Misty reached out to wipe it away. She kept her hand there a little longer, against Cordelia's cheek, thumb stroking over her cheekbone. Cordelia lifted her own hand and put it on top of Misty's. Cage sat still and quiet, looking from one woman to the other, knowing something too important to disrupt was going on.

"You are… the most perfect soul I've ever met. You're an angel, Misty." She kissed Misty's hand and lowered it. "Take all the time you need. I will be right here, waiting for you."

Misty nodded and looked down. She didn't want to withdraw her hand quite yet. And another thought suddenly pressed on with guilt, an issue she had forgotten to mention. Angels don't do all the things she had done in the recent past.

"What is it?" Cordelia asked, having read the change on her face. Her voice was suddenly laced with caution again.

Misty looked up, feeling ashamed of it for the first time. "I got fired again."

She had expected shock, maybe worry of some kind, but Cordelia's expression softened again and she nodded. "I know. It's okay."

"I'll find a new job."

"When you're ready. We'll manage until then."

"Right… I gotta go now. Check on Nick, think a little bit." Cordelia looked sad again, but it was a calm kind of sad. Acceptance still ruled the atmosphere.

She only said: "You know where we are."

"You going, mama?" Cage's little voice interrupted them. He put a hand on Misty's arm and looked up at her with troubled eyes. They looked so much like Cordelia's, it hurt a little. "When you come home?"

"Soon, pup, I promise." She ruffled through his hair and gave Cordelia the last look. "Soon."

She got up then, before it became impossible to leave, and walked out of the room.

The air felt cleaner now, the moist heat less heavy. Dread and hurt had crawled to a much smaller space in her mind and the smell of Cordelia still lingered on her skin. The scent was almost intoxicating. It brought her a sense of peace that she yesterday feared she would have to learn to live without. Now she smiled into the air again, confident that it would be okay someday. She might not have worked it all out yet, but it seemed she had the tools to do it now.

Misty headed for the forest, meaning to spend a full day with Nick, clearing things up in her head. She found the path leading through the forest to her shack and her steps almost bounced on the soft grass. Half a dozen steps in, a shadow separated from the trees and something – someone? – sprang out towards her from the side. She turned her head, halfway into a protective crouch when the oddest kind of wind hit her. Dust blew into her eyes, mouth and nose. The second she inhaled it, her senses started to blur. When the footsteps retreated with haste, she was already half-blinded and unable to make out the figure of her attacker. And then a strange, intruding kind of tingle started to creep into her brain.

O0O

Fiona had begun tapping her fingers against the table. Then she looked at her fingers – she wouldn't be surprised to find them turning yellow already – and began tapping again. Misty was many things, but she was not one to keep injury waiting. She might have held back before, but she fought to keep Fiona alive now more than any of those goddamn doctors Fiona payed for. She tended to Fiona weekly to keep the cirrhosis down, a losing battle surely, but a slow one thanks to her.

And now she hadn't shown her face all day.

Fiona had even checked the swamp, stayed there for hours much to her own displeasure, but Misty never showed. Now back at the house and still she heard nothing. Cordelia was at the playground with Cage and when Fiona had asked her about Misty – carefully so because their truce felt too fragile to touch – she only shook her head and said she hadn't talked to Misty at all since the morning of yesterday. She had promised to give Misty space and Fiona thought she would probably rather let the darkness of her own anxiety choke her to death before she broke another promise.

This only meant that Fiona had no lifeline to call upon to help locate the goddamn swamp witch. She felt sick now, tired mostly and even feverish at the perspective of Misty not healing her this time. It would begin to show. No one knew she was this sick; she had sought to that. She would not make the same mistake as last time and have Cordelia find out through some odd kind of mother-daughter telepathy as she had then. Fiona scoffed. Of all the things intact about the biological connection between mother and child, it had to be the knack for smelling illness. What good was that? If at least the understanding of the other's struggle came with this telepathy, but no, that was an entirely different skill. Still, they were closer now. And Fiona was not about to let her shrinking liver get in the way of that.

When the evening came and Cordelia returned to cook dinner for her and Cage, Fiona went to Cometh's. He might be perceptive, but he did not share the illness smelling telepathy. His home would give her room to pull up a façade and act fine until Misty remembered that she was supposed to keep her from dying.

He opened at the second knock. She noticed the concerned look on his face, when he saw her, but she didn't comment on it. And he had tact enough to let her play pretend for a good hour, before he sat down beside her with determination and worry in his eyes.

"Is everything okay, my love? You look troubled. And feverish."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you saying I look bad?"

"Not possible", he chuckled. "But you do look like someone coming down with a bug. That happens to even the best, I've heard."

She looked into his handsome face, just appreciating that warm gaze directed at her. She couldn't tell him. Those eyes would become sad and she needed for everything around her not to be so goddamn sad. Not when it was finally looking a little brighter.

"You are a beautiful man, do you know that?"

He smiled and his eyes turned warmer. Then he picked up her hand and kissed it.

"You don't fool me, Fiona. There is something you don't want to tell me. Is your daughter okay?"

"Not quite, but far better", Fiona said honestly.

"That's good to hear." The free hand came around her shoulders, grazed her skin and started to gently massage the base of her skull. "So it's not that then."

Fiona sighed, kept her gaze focused on some point far away from the conversation. This was not the confession she had aimed for, but one she could handle. And it was just as true as the one still hidden. What was the point in keeping it in anyway? If there was no hope for salvation, then why not die with a nice buzz in her head.

She swallowed once to clean her throat and then said: "I want to drink."

* * *

 **A/N: End of part one. Thanks for sticking with me this far!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: This will be my last chapter in some weeks, you guys. I'm very sorry that I have to take a break right in the middle of things,** _ **believe**_ **me, but the hand injury turned out to be not so minor after all. You'll get this one because I had it almost ready, but it might be three weeks to a month until the next one. I hope you'll bear with me until then. For now, please enjoy :)**

* * *

 **Part 2**

" **And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again."**

 **\- The Chain, Fleetwood Mac**

The light was faint at basement level, but through dust and spider's web, the occasional stream of sunlight reflected in the many glass jars on her shelves.

Marie walked through the crypt of her house. She had had to move her things down here after Damian had taken her usual room. He could not be moved from there, but jars and potions could. Besides, there was a room at the end with the perfect opportunity for discrete storage.

She took a closer look at her collection of jars. They were small and they all seemed empty at first, but upon closer look, one would notice a strand or two of hair in each jar. At the bottom lay a layer of dust, not the grey, molded kind from lack of cleaning, but fine particles that vaguely reflected in the light. The jars didn't originally bear name tags, in fact once there was only one jar in here and so she didn't have any trouble remembering who it belonged to. Now there was an entire row and mixing them up would be a terrible mistake. And a mess she'd like to avoid.

The jars stood in chronological order, like a little story of their own. First was _Delphine Lalaurie_ , this one many years old. The glass jar had become dull with age and the hair inside as dead as the woman whose head it was once attached to. After hers came a long row of spies, necessary people _. Greg the busboy_ , _Keith_ that one who used to harass her sister. She usually didn't collect from her own people, but this boy was particularly annoying. Later in the row came _Emily the nurse_. She had been a great help. Sweet girl. The first day Marie met her, a visit regarding her own pregnancy ages ago, she went on and on about how she felt it was her calling to help as many people as she could. She helped now alright.

Last in the row was the newest, cleanest jar. This one was a fine possession, the one she really needed. This would complete her revenge. Inside the little jar was a blonde curly hair, stolen with such ingenious simplicity – she would have to award Emily for her cleverness, even if she had no memory of having done it – and safely kept here until ready for usage. The label read _Misty the Goode girl_.

And it had been put to use already. She was in Misty's head now. The Goode girl was at Marie's mercy and _that_ she was going to regret.

Marie walked to the storage room at the end. In her hands she held a simple dinner for the guest. She couldn't have her weapon starving to death, before her task was executed. The storage room looked like an old wooden jail cell. It wasn't meant for storing people, but it served it's purpose well. These bars were robust.

She opened the door with the levity of someone who knows she has the upper hand. She had no fear of the girl escaping. When she shifted to the side, the sparse light made its way past her, shone on the guest. Misty looked up from her spot in the corner. She had curled up with her arms around her knees and a look of despair on her face. Her first words were not 'where am I' or 'what am I doing here', but this:

"Why can't I remember anythin'?"

Marie's voice was laced with smug coolness, when she answered: "Because your mind ain't your own no more, honey. Eat up. We have work to do."

She then placed the tray on the floor and shut the door again.

O0O

The last twelve hours of her life was completely gone. Misty had never had a blackout before and the hole in her memory made her an agitated kind of nervous. The more she tried to remember, the closer that nervousness got to panic. Another stab of panic and she was ready to climb the walls, but the walls were greasy and slippery, moist like the atmosphere down here. The only wall that wasn't solid, greasy rock, was lined with thick wooden bars. She was a dog trapped in a cage and she had no strength to get out. She had tried multiple times already. Whenever she rattled her cage, there was a piercing voice, which carved its way into her brain, making her abruptly stop trying to escape. Fighting it made her mind go fuzzy and soon she found herself sitting down in the corner of the room, numb and waiting. For what she didn't know.

Dust. She vaguely recalled inhaling dust. When, where or why she couldn't remember.

Was it Sunday already? Or Monday? She was supposed to heal Fiona every Sunday now, otherwise the sickness in her liver would become too aggressive. If it was Monday already then she had missed it.

And Cordelia… She had promised Cordelia to take a few days to think, but now she found herself encaged in what could only be Laveau's basement and only _she_ knew when Misty would get out and tell Cordelia that she didn't need the alone time that bad anymore. Before she knew it she was up and tearing at the door again.

"Let me out!" She screamed.

 _Sit._

Misty kept on hammering her fists into the bars until her gaze started to swim, her thoughts felt like they moved in water and she found her body going back to the floor.

"Let me out…" She whined and thought her voice sounded like a dog with its ears hanging after being told off.

"Some witch you are." It was Laveau's voice. The sound of her heels – a sturdier sound than Fiona's heels used to make, but noticeable nonetheless – grew and Laveau appeared down the row of dirty jars. She didn't look smug now. When Misty saw her the first time after she woke up here, she had a look of triumph on her face. Today she just looked hateful. She came all the way up to the bars, put a hand to them and watched Misty with disgust. "You're immune to the biological hells of life, you can sedate my creations, _bend_ wild creatures to your will, but you can't keep me outta your head. Some witch."

"For the last time, I ain't done _nothin'_ to your boy!"

Misty motioned to get up, but Laveau only offered her a sinister smile. Then she pulled something out of her pocket, fidgeted with it for a second and then pain exploded at the back of Misty's neck.

She cried out and grasped desperately for the knife that surely must be carving into her flesh. It felt like sharp metal tearing bone-deep, but she found nothing there. The only thing scratching at her skin was her own nails and the terror of that thought poked right through the pain.

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped. Misty found herself panting and slouching with sudden exhaustion. She looked up at Laveau, whose sinister smile had disappeared, only to reveal the same cold hate that was there just a minute ago. Laveau held up to item so Misty could see it: A tiny doll made of straw. In the other hand, Laveau held a small razor. It glimmered as she twirled it between her fingers.

"Don't get mouthy with me, witch. And don't you dare lie to me, 'cause I know all about that gator you befriend. I may not control the words outta your filthy mouth, but I control just about everythin' else now, got me? Now get up."

Misty snarled, but did it. Laveau gestured for her to come closer to the bars and Misty refused. Then her brain got fuzzy and she did it anyway.

Laveau smiled, walked away and picked up the jar at the end of the shelf. "This is you in this jar", she said. "And we're gonna need just a little more to speed up the plan. Seems one treatment is not enough for you. But once you're a good loyal girl, I might let you loose again. See how that stirs up that lil' family of yours."

"If you hurt her I will kill you. Her or my son." Misty spoke through her teeth with as much hate as she had ever put into words before. She could feel her hands tremble, and it was because it wasn't only anger. She feared now, understood now, that Laveau was too powerful for empty threats. She didn't look like a woman anymore; she looked like some manic hateful creature. A green monster out of those children's books she sometimes read to Cage. There was no resemblance to the woman Misty had met in the swamp with her boy.

Laveau chuckled, grabbed a small handful of the grainy dust at the bottom of the jar. Then she walked back to the bars, looked Misty in the eye and said: "Oh _I_ won't." Then she blew the dust into Misty's face and the world went dark again. Only the tingle in her brain remained.

O0O

Sunday went by. Then Monday. The waiting wasn't supposed to make the air feel this tight in every room she entered, but it did. It was silly; Misty hadn't given her any exact number of days she needed to herself and two was hardly much compared to the week they had spent apart in agonizing silence before the night they made up.

Still, Cordelia felt uneasy. More than that, she felt like something was wrong. Terribly wrong and she had no evidence for this, only a stir in her chest that wouldn't settle.

Cage kept asking for Misty now that he sensed the changed atmosphere. The world was simple in his mind. They weren't fighting anymore and so his mama should return home. This need for extra time alone to ponder if forgiveness was the right thing was a mystery to him. Cordelia didn't try to explain it to him, because a little boy shouldn't deal with such complicated emotional issues, yet she understood it. It hurt, but she understood. And she couldn't force it, however much she wanted to. She could only be grateful that they've gotten this far so soon.

It didn't help when Fiona came back from Cometh the next day asking Cordelia again, if she had heard from Misty.

She came into the kitchen as Cordelia was making dinner for her and Cage. Cage was in the living room with Zoe, who had been taking care of him during the day.

"Do you have room for an extra plate?" Fiona asked.

"Of course."

"It's just the three of us then?" Cordelia didn't want to look up from the pot, because the underbelly of the question felt like back in the day when Fiona used to enjoy pushing her buttons and knowing which one hurt the most. Only her voice was different, not annoyed or mocking. Just worried.

When Cordelia caved and looked at her face it was indeed worry she found, but something else stole her attention. Fiona's pallor, the feverish gleam at the line of her hair.

"I suppose so, unless Zoe wants to stay. Are you alright?"

Fiona waved her off and sat down. "I'm fine. Have you talked to Misty yet?"

Cordelia had thought that by now the anxiety of waiting for Misty had settled, but Fiona's simple question whirled it all around again with dizzying speed and her chest tightened.

"I haven't. I promised to give her some days."

"It's been three now. She's not that slow of a thinker."

"Mother, don't", she warned. "She has every right to take all the time she needs in peace and you will not rob her of that."

Fiona scoffed, then shot Cordelia a long glance and changed approach. "Shouldn't she at least let you know where she can be found? Disappearing off the face of the earth just to pout seems a little-"

"You didn't." Cordelia had just realized what it was that Fiona was not saying. "Isn't she bad enough without you tormenting her? Why do you continue to act as though everything is your property? Can't you just mind your own _damn_ business?" Her voice raised with every word until she suddenly realized her own yelling. Cordelia silenced again, not used to such harsh words coming out of her own mouth. Even Fiona looked a little taken aback. Cordelia let the pot be and turned all the way around, too consumed with sudden guilt to focus on cooking. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I just wish you wouldn't meddle. She might take even longer if she doesn't get the space she needs."

"She doesn't need space from you and we all know it. And no matter how much I _torment_ her, it would never reflect badly on you. You know that too."

Cordelia sighed. "I know." She dared looking at her mother and the gleam caught her eye again. So did the look of fever in her eyes. It glimmered as if whatever she was fighting was just beneath the thin fabric of her skin. Then it dawned Cordelia. "Mom, are you sick again? You didn't go to Misty for me, did you? Is the cancer coming back?"

Fiona sighed. "No I didn't go there for you. Not the first time at least."

A lump gathered in Cordelia's throat. She fumbled for the chair because now she had to sit down. The room started to spin.

"So you're sick then? But I thought Misty helped?"

"Calm down now, child, I'm fine", Fiona said and waved her off. "She did help me and she got most of it. She's only keeping check on me a few times a month, it's nothing more than that. Don't you worry about me, you hear me?"

Putting an end to worry was never something Cordelia had had any kind of grasp on and Fiona knew it. Cordelia gave her a defeated nod, hoping Fiona wasn't lying, and went to get Cage from the living room. She might be able to not worry about Fiona's health, because she knew Misty helped her, but Misty not being at her swamp gnawed at her. She might just be going for a walk in the wild just then, Cordelia tried to remind herself, but to no use. Because there was that feeling.

Zoe barely looked up, when Cordelia fetched Cage. She ushered him to the kitchen and he waddled away, towards the smell of food. Zoe kept her place on the floor, legs folded and eyes fixed on a strand of hair between her fingers.

Cordelia took a few moments to watch her.

"Zoe, is Kyle okay?" She wanted to ask this question to Zoe herself, but it seemed those two were thoroughly linked. Just like her and Misty. It made her feel horrible for having Zoe throw Kyle out like that. She knew very little of this charming boy, except his relationship with his mother wasn't good, and something had happened that day in the woods with the help of Marie Laveau. Misty explained that he died and Laveau somehow had powers to bring him back – but it was nothing like when Misty had done it. Different forces were at work and none of them understood these forces well enough to explain it. To Misty it was all vibes and bone deep feelings of wrong. Cordelia didn't have that and so she decided to just ask Zoe.

Zoe looked up. There were circles under her eyes and Cordelia's heart suddenly tightened with hurt, because she recognized these circles from the mirror from time to time. It made her sit down beside Zoe and take her hand.

"You can talk to me, if you want."

She received a faint smile from Zoe, before the girl reclaimed her hand and said: "I don't think so. I made him go into the woods. He felt so awful. I just wanted it to end."

Ice ran through Cordelia's veins. "You took him to the swamp?" Vision of mangled boy bodies crashed in on her again and Zoe's nod only made the magnitude increase. Zoe's eyes started to water up and Cordelia pulled her in. She didn't know what to say. She could only focus on the fact that she hadn't even thought to ask where Zoe was taking Kyle, after she picked him up the last time. She had been too consumed by her own troubles to reach out, as she should have.

Just then the phone rang. Zoe jumped at the sound. Fiona called out that she would get it and Cordelia stayed on the floor with Zoe.

"Zoe, is Kyle… you haven't heard from him since?" She couldn't make herself say the word dead, just like she could never finish a sentence that involved the night where Misty almost died. Somehow saying it out loud gave it power and she didn't want Zoe sucked into the hopelessness.

Zoe looked up and those glossy eyes made Cordelia fear that Zoe's was already there.

"He wasn't alive before he went", she said with a thin voice, almost whispered it, as if she obeyed the same rules and fears Cordelia did. "Not all the way at least. I don't know what that woman did to him, but he was in pain. It's better this way." Her voice broke at the end and a lump gathered in Cordelia's throat. Just looking at the lost young girl in front of her made her feel like she couldn't breathe. And she was supposed to be a mentor to Zoe, but she couldn't protect her from something like this. She knew too well that these demons obeyed no outside voice. Instead she pulled Zoe in closer, brushed a hand over her hair and agreed that Kyle must be in a better place, if he had left this one.

Moments later Fiona came into the room holding the phone.

"The police. It's a call for Zoe Benson, I take it that's you?" Her voice was even, indifferent, but Cordelia thought she traced worry. Fiona worried an unusual amount these days.

"Why would they call here?" Cordelia asked, looked from Zoe to the phone.

Fiona shrugged and gestured at Zoe to get up. "They say it's important and they can't reach her at home."

"Well ask them what-"

"It's okay, Cordelia", Zoe interrupted and got up. She drew the hair out of her face, took a breath and received the phone from Fiona. She said hello and then she left the room. It's was the last Cordelia heard of the conversation. When Zoe came back it was with an apologetic smile and the announcement that she was going home. She walked passed them and Fiona went back to the kitchen, indifferent. Cordelia felt torn for a moment and then went after Zoe. She caught her halfway out the door.

"You know you can tell me if you're in trouble, right?" Cordelia asked her.

"Yeah I know. Thanks."

"I know this look, Zoe. You're trying to hold up a façade, because being open to the world is too much. I know that feeling. I've lived it most of my life. I don't want you to end up like me." She gave Zoe's arm a gentle rub and suddenly Zoe flung her arms around Cordelia's neck.

A little 'oh' of surprise escaped her, but she pulled Zoe in for a tight hug. She was only a head shorter than Cordelia, and slimmer, yet she felt unrealistically small in the embrace. She didn't cry, but stayed silent in the hug, as if just gathering some energy. Then she released herself again.

"I'm glad I have you, Cordelia. They don't know how selfless you are at school. They should", she smiled a sad little smile and wiped a crawling tear with her sleeve. "Anyway, I gotta go. Don't worry about me too much, okay?"

"I'll stop, when I need to", Cordelia told her and drew out a smile herself, one that wasn't completely devoid of those facades she spoke of, but it was warmer than it had felt all day.

Zoe nodded, then turned and left. Cordelia watched her disappear behind the bushes and then went in to eat dinner with Cage and Fiona.

O0O

Hank found that there was another nail tying his leash to the city, preventing him from leaving. He didn't like to admit it to himself, not sober at least, but a part of him wanted to see what the Voodoo Queen had up her sleeve. Now that his family was truly broken, he wanted the Queen of the Goode mansion to bow. If she wouldn't bow for him – and he wasn't kidding himself on this, of course she would never – then maybe she would bow to his ally. Another part of him kept gnawing insistently, reminding him of just how sick that was. It was like pulling up at the side of the road, waiting to be the first in line to see the car crash happen. He had an inkling that Marie's revenge wasn't going to be pretty, but he couldn't help circling anyway, drawn to the upcoming fight like eyes to a dog fight. There wasn't much thought behind this; he just wanted to watch the great Fiona Goode's pride implode, wanted to know how Marie planned to tear her down. And on some level, he wanted Fiona to know that he had helped. Just once, he wanted to see the look on her face when he won. She always took such pride in making him lose, but for once he felt like he was on the stronger team. If the rumors really were true.

He hadn't seen Marie Laveau since she sent him out with that Chinwee guy to show him the path to Misty's shack. She had pointed him out to the boy and given him orders to show Chinwee the way. As if he was some boy scout and not a grown man. He had said nothing to it, because Marie had looked upset that day and she had that aura. The aura that said 'if you mess with me, I will eat you and no one will ever know'. So Hank had kept his mouth shut about his bruised ego and lead the way.

Her house wasn't hard to find the second time either. Everyone knew her. And everyone in her neighborhood spoke of her like she was a priestess, a healer, something almost worthy of worship. And they spoke of her tragedy, but they loved her. None of it fitted the dead, deserted atmosphere that surrounded her house today.

It was silent like the grave. His knock on the door almost gave off an echo. The last time there had been people here. Not a lot, but at least enough to make the place look alive.

It took several minutes before he heard steps on the other side of the door. Marie wore heels too, and something about that made Hank think that she and Fiona might not be all that different. They had the same superiority about them, same pride. Same way of making him feel like a kid. Actually Hank was pretty sure he would feel the same way about Marie, if she had been his mother-in-law instead of Fiona. Only she wasn't. She was a younger, stronger version of Fiona and perhaps less cold-blooded.

Finally she opened the door and greeted him with a surprised, slightly annoyed face. Beautiful, he forgot that. She beat Fiona there too. He almost felt guilty for admitting it, but then he remembered that Cordelia had rejected him for the amazon once again and he allowed himself the admission.

"What do you want?" Marie asked him in a voice that clearly stated her lack of patience with him and it snapped him back to reality. He had had words prepared, some kind of speech about being ready to fight, but now he couldn't remember. Those dark eyes pierced him and it made him nervous. Her whole being eluded a sense of danger that he couldn't think through. The paper filter wasn't quite sufficient, he noticed.

"When do we start taking down our common enemy?" He asked instead, trying and failing to sound casual.

Marie chuckled and leaned against the door, which she had only opened half way. "Lil' late for that, Foxx. I've already started."

Without me? He wanted to say, but refrained, because he feared it would make him sound like a pouting five-year-old.

"Well can I help?" He insisted. He did sound like a hopeful, fucking boy scout. Fiona would strike him down with laughter, if she had heard him just now.

"You already did, when you showed Chinwee the path." What more could I possible use you for, was the unspoken part of her answer.

"Yeah, of course. So what… What do you plan to do to her?" Hank asked then, hated that he had to drag it out of her like that, but scared to let it show. And suddenly nervous to hear the answer.

Marie smiled a dark smile and leaned a little closer. "Don't you worry about that. I didn't touch your precious ex-wife. That's all you needa know."

"But…" He trailed off, felt like a kid yet again. The smile scared him. He had wanted to clarify the truth of those rumors when he came here, but looking into her face right now and feeling that aura around her was enough. She had power and while he didn't understand how, he knew that she had brought that boy back just like the drunken gossip said. And he wasn't sure he wanted to understand, because _Misty's_ abilities made his head spin and she never looked as sinister as the woman before him now. There was a small voice within him, whispering that he was way out of his depth and did he really want to be the cause of whatever evil Marie had planned for Misty as well? But the paper filter didn't just drown out most of the outer stimuli. It silenced his reason as well. He only remembered his broken pieces of family and behind that was a white screen of nothing.

"No buts, now go home and let me get to work", she said. "And Hank", she added, when he made the first motion to turn around and get the hell out of there, "I trust you'll stay quiet. Remember that I have eyes everywhere."

Hank could only muster a nod, before she closed the door and released him from the spell. He walked back to his hotel, thinking about the few times Fiona had sent death threats his way. It had never made him feel as frightened as now.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for your patience, I'm truly sorry I had to take a break like that. I'm back now, well, sort of. I can't promise that updates will happen every week (will probably be closer to every second or third depending on the state of things), as my hand is still not properly healed, but I can write a little. Figured you guys would prefer that over total silence. So baby steps, but rest assured that I will never abandon this, it might just take a while longer than planned to finish it.**

 **I have to devote a special thanks to Anni, the guest reviewer, since I can't write you in person. Your comment made my entire month and made me wish so much that I could just sit down and start writing again. Thank you, truly. And thanks to the rest of you also – I'm not in the habit of collecting first-borns but I appreciate the offers ;)**

 **Well, on with it.**

* * *

Fiona woke to the warm scent of her man and the embrace she was wrapped in. Her first waking thought was that she never wanted to move. Never. Because when she did, _he_ would move and he would look at her. He would see the pain on her face that she could no longer fully hide and he would ask once again if anything was wrong. And lying would stop working soon, because he already knew and his gentleman patience was slipping up. Soon he would start demanding.

She didn't want to look to the side, because there would be a mirror on the nightstand and she would see the gleam that no longer fooled him. She would see the slight yellowing of her skin, soon so visible it wouldn't fool her daughter either.

When Misty finally showed herself, Fiona would kill her dead. Not because she was dying quicker – this might even be a relief, because she was about fed up with this miserable half living anyway – but because it was causing Cometh and Cordelia such pain. Cordelia, who Misty would rather die than hurt if she could help it. Cordelia, who she had been hiding from for five days now. So much for the love of her life. Or maybe Cordelia was right, maybe something was terribly wrong. Sad thing that she was too stubborn or too fooled by those imaginary voices to go and find out.

Fiona didn't get to think much else, because Cometh groaned and started to wake up. He moved slowly, with the daze of a man half asleep. She prayed he would just succumb to it again.

Then faith proved its hate towards her, Cometh turned and the feeling of his eyes on her face was too magnetic. She turned her own head to his side and greeted him with silence.

"Good morning, beautiful", he said and his warm smile of unknown bliss or maybe just temporary amnesia tore at her.

"That's a goddamn lie", she said. Her voice lost its sharpness in these early hours of morning, but the scoff never faltered.

"Why is it not a good morning?" He asked and added: "Because surely that's the only one of my statements that could in any way be false."

Fiona shook her head and looked into the ceiling. "You're unbelievable."

He leaned in and kissed her shoulder. "If you refuse to tell me what's making you sick, I refuse to acknowledge its presence. Would you like some breakfast?"

She shook her head again and then got up to get dressed. There was a dull thumbing in the back of her head and it took her a while to realize that it was the hangover. The prize for being sober too long is that you stop being immune to the hangovers, once you slip. And it was a sorry amount of alcohol to get a hangover from at that. She groaned and went to the bathroom to get just a moment of peace from the look on his face.

When she came back, he was making coffee. He had taken the eggs out too in case she changed her mind. There was a glass of water beside it and some salted crackers: The hangover meal. He handed her the water and she took it without a word. She held it there in her hand, watched the water twirl around, but didn't drink it.

"You don't usually refuse beverages", Cometh said and Fiona chuckled humorlessly.

"You shouldn't have let me drink last night."

"Fiona", he said with that voice he used when she was being difficult. It came with the look of staring at an endearing lunatic. "You know better than I that I can't stop you from doing exactly what you want to do. I never force your hand in any direction, but I was there the whole time. As I'm sure you remember."

"I do. It wasn't that much", she said with a scoff and felt like she was on trial. Like some goddamn teenager.

"I know." He moved close to her and carefully slid his arms around her waist. He moved with a slow caution as if she was a cat on the brink of escape. She took a few sips of the water and felt like she could throw up. Not due to the aftermath of the drinking. Not because her liver was quite literally stealing her hours away. But because she realized that she was going to tell him.

She sat the glass down, looked back up at him and said: "I want to marry you" – the surprise registered with such obvious joy in his eyes that she almost didn't choke out the rest, but she had to – "but I can't. I'm not going to be here for much longer and getting married is just too goddamn stupid when I'll likely be dead within two months. This is not some idiotic teenage love story we're living and there's too much goddamn paper work. Cordelia gets the house, it stays in the name. You don't get that and she and Misty need whatever money I have left to make due, so you can't have that either."

He didn't cry. She wasn't sure if she had expected him to. For the time being, he looked far happier than he was supposed to and Fiona had the suspicion that he had chosen not to hear anything but the very first part of her speech.

"You foolish woman", he said with a voice so warm it hurt in the weirdest way. His grip around her body tightened. "I don't want your money or your estate. I don't want my own money or anything I own for that matter. I only want you. And that goes for whatever time we may have."

She had to free herself of his embrace then. "You're not listening to me, Cometh. I'm dying! Nobody marries a dead woman!"

"Tell me what's killing you?" She hated that he was so calm. It made her feel like she couldn't breathe, as if he was projecting all his sadness into her chest and she felt it for the both of them.

"It's cirrhosis. Closing in on end-stage liver failure. By their prognosis I'll be bedridden by the end of the month. Gone in two. They can't find a matching donor and I will not put anyone of you through trying to give me your body parts." – He opened his mouth to speak – "That includes you, mister, so don't you _dare_ offer it!" She felt her voice breaking. God she wanted to run, to scream at him, make him do something other than stare at her with that creeping sadness. She had it right; he had found her out, guessed her sickness and she had just robbed him of his opportunity to save her. But she would have none of it.

He nodded slowly, his expression determined. Then he absentmindedly held up a finger, as if to pause her, while he walked past her. He went to his coat by the door and rummaged through the pocket. When he turned around there was an unmistakable little box in his hand.

"Christ Cometh, have you just been carrying that thing around with you wherever you go?" She snapped, but he didn't answer. He opened the box and the light reflected diamonds, three of them, the middle one a little larger. It was tasteful, the diamonds not overly large but big enough to steal attention from every other piece of jewelry she owned. Cometh picked it out of the box, put the box aside on the table and held the ring between his two fingers as he walked back to her.

He stopped in front of her and held up the ring.

"Whether there will be a wedding or not, this ring is yours. And you will wear it, because I love you. It doesn't have to be a wedding. It can stay like it is between you and me right now, but you will let me be by your side until you are no longer breathing, whether that's standing or bedridden. Is that a deal?"

Fiona looked from the ring and to his eyes and back again, his words echoing all the way to the soul she wasn't sure she had. She found that she was trembling. At last, she looked back at him and she nodded.

"Okay", she said and her voice had been stolen away, but he heard the whisper. He picked up her hand, ignored the trembling or marveled at it on the inside, and placed the ring on her finger.

Then he pulled her in and kissed her. There was a smile in his kiss, not triumphant as she could have imagined, but one of an emotion much purer and finally it all released in her chest. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she felt the warm spread of happy in her bones and only that.

O0O

Colors. A scary amount of colors. So different from the attic of the Goode mansion. So many sounds also. Jaws snapping, scaly feet retreating. Heavy, deadly tails swinging in the mud and then the splash of water as they fled. No one Kyle knew could ever claim to have seen alligators scared, not even Misty, but now he had. And he had no words to tell anyone.

When the riverside emptied out, he started to realize they would not kill him. He couldn't get himself killed off like he had promised Zoe. Zoe. She was the only thing clear in his brain; everything was as muddy as the ground he sat on. He had to get back to her.

The creature of Kyle got up from the ground and started walking. He was faintly aware that he was just a creature now. He was no less a bug than those which crawled on his skin when he sat still long enough. Except for when he was with Zoe. His mind came back out from the dusty corner it hid in the remainder of the time. He could form words. He had long, coherent thoughts. Something about her presence made him try. Made him work through the fog and be a person. All he saw out here was green and her tears with his inner eye. He would make her smile again. He remembered her from before, always happy. He remembered nothing else. Only vague emotions and clouded pictures. Darkness and the image of his old house. Repression and his mother. Blood and his mother. Fear and his mother. Fear that she would touch him again and he couldn't tell her to stop because it would hurt her feelings and she would cry for days and threaten to kill herself and she would-

Kyle's head collided with a tree as he threw himself into it to get his brains back on track. He crashed his skull into the body of the tree until there was a mushy hole in his forehead and no more pictures in his head.

Then he started walking again.

He had forgotten what his old apartment looked like. Home was Zoe now and home he went. It was dark out, but he worked the dark better now. He felt more at ease here, he belonged here. All that brightness was for the living. The rightfully living. He emerged from the forest and was somewhat pleased to find himself still wrapped in darkness. He shied away from the streetlights, walked the shadows until he reached his destination.

What he found was a lot of yellow tape. The door was closed and there was no light on. The place looked cold and abandoned.

No Zoe.

Kyle turned and started walking to the other place he thought he could find her. His body moved with slow across the lawn, heading for the outer borders of town where all the rich people lived and where the Goode mansion was. Where _she_ was. Kyle remembered Misty as a friend, but a part of him shied from her with repulsion. Or attacked with panicked fury, because when she was close something overtook him. The power that had made him alive again was frightened by the power within her. She could kill him. A part of her needed to and he could feel it. He thought a part of her even wanted to, because he's a walking, never-healing injury and he mocked everything she was just by being. He felt that clearer than anything else. Clearer than even Zoe sometimes. It wasn't strong now that he couldn't see her and the mental picture of Zoe overshadowed it, but it was close and he couldn't fight it. Kill or be killed. That was how it was when opposing forces met.

There was ruffling in the grass and then a voice called out for him.

"Hey! Kid! What're ya doin' here?"

Kyle turned around and a police officer came towards him. He recognized the badge in his belt.

"Are ya Kyle Spencer? We been lookin' for ya." He came closer, his forehead creased as he took in the sight of Kyle, maybe trying to determine if it was him. "Hell, son, what happened to your head? Look, ya gotta come to the station. We needa talk to ya 'bout yer moth-"

"NO!" Kyle bellowed and lunged at the officer. The officer recoiled at first, ripped the walkie from his belt and started screaming into it. He didn't get any coherent sentence out, before Kyle threw himself over him and his fists started to rain down on the man's mouth until he stopped talking. Bone broke apart under his fists, teeth dug into his knuckles and sprung away. The officers legs kicked and his hands ripped at Kyle, but he wasn't strong or fast enough. Kyle didn't move with slow anymore, his brain had clicked into a singular mode, panicked and focused on getting the image out of his head again.

He stopped when the face underneath him didn't give any more fight and the frantic limbs stopped poking at him. He got up and turned towards the house, he was headed for. He didn't want to look at the dead man, because he knew he had done it again. Done damage. Zoe didn't like that. It made her sad.

Kyle stopped in his track when he realized there was another man watching. He almost fell into the shadows, but his eyes were alight and the light blue of his cap stood out against the dark. For two or three seconds they stared at each other. Then he ran, as fast as he could, in the opposite direction Kyle was headed. Kyle stared after him for a moment or two, vaguely wondering who he was.

Then he turned and headed for the mansion.

O0O

Zoe had become something of a permanent extra hand at the house. Cordelia was a mess these days. She had admitted that things with her and Misty was better, they were on the right track again, even if there was still a long way to go. Zoe rejoiced at this, holding onto the hope of her inspirational couple still existing. It made the world just a little less bleak. In spite of this, Cordelia was still out of her usual composure, because Misty hadn't given word in days and it was getting to a point where Cordelia's extreme anxiety on the matter started creeping under the skin of the rest of them. Cage kept asking for his mama and no one could tell him anything. Zoe often took him out in the garden to give Cordelia the time she needed to climb walls and break down the monsters in her head. Cage called them that sometimes.

"Mommy's got monsters in her head", he said, when he didn't call them 'talkers'. Cordelia said the first might have been her explanation for her illness. The boy was too smart not to notice, but too young to understand anything as complicated as psychosis. But he was reaching the 'monsters under the bed' age and that he could relate to. Cordelia swore no one had ever used the word 'talkers' though. That was his own.

Zoe didn't mind being the extra hand. She needed her mind occupied. Time alone with her thoughts was torture. Sometimes she feared she was turning out just like her mentor, although she had promised her she would try not to wallow up with grief and succumb to monsters in the head.

She couldn't miss him. She did, but she couldn't.

Sometimes she stayed over at the Goode mansion too. Cordelia had looked at her with worry the first time she asked and then asked why she didn't want to be home.

"My parents are travelling", Zoe just told her. She didn't want to be alone at home and Cordelia understood.

"Do your parents know what happened to Kyle?"

Zoe shook her head. "No. They just think we broke up, because he went to school upstate." That was his plan after all and she had told them this. Cordelia tried to dig more, but Zoe didn't let her and Cordelia caught on quickly enough, stopped asking. She told Zoe she couldn't pay her babysitting hours for all the time she just stayed over and Zoe assured her she didn't need to. So Cordelia made up the spare guest room and that was the end of it. Zoe secretly believed Cordelia was relieved to have the extra set of hands.

She sat curled up on the couch with a book, when Cordelia came down from the first floor after having tugged Cage in for the night. The words jumped around on the page in front of her and she turned the pages slower and slower. She wanted to be so tired she couldn't keep her eyes open, before she tried to go to bed. Then maybe she could sleep. She barely noticed Cordelia sitting down, but she caught her looking when she started nodding into sleep and jolted upright. Cordelia gave her a warm smile.

"Go to bed, honey. You look exhausted."

Zoe sent her a small smile in return. Cordelia had begun to call her by these nicknames and it made Zoe think of the mother figure instead of the mentor. Cordelia was so different from her own mom, soft and fragile to Catherine Benson's strict and robust, but both of them warm all the same. Both of them able to reach beyond their own struggles with that nursing atmosphere Zoe seemed to crave. She sometimes had half the mind to ask Cordelia to be her stand-in. But she never did. Instead she gave her a hug and said: "Thanks for letting me stay." It felt silly to say on some level, because it was the third night in a row she had done so, but she said it anyway. She heard a faint chuckle in her ear and a gentle rub on her back.

"You're welcome", Cordelia said, just as she had the other nights as well. As if she never took the gratitude for granted.

Zoe then released herself, somewhat embarrassed at the rush of emotion and excused herself to go brush her teeth. It was so early in the evening still, only the bedtime of a three-year-old, but she was drained to the core. And she wanted to give Cordelia just a few moments to herself. She thought she could at least do that, with all the privacy she robbed her mentor off these days.

The dark outside the window of the kitchen barely registered with her, until the moment she saw the shadows move. First it appeared only a glitch of the dark, maybe a distant tree caught in the wind or something other, but then it moved closer. Came up the isle. Zoe almost choked on her toothbrush when she recognized him.

"Kyle!" She didn't realize how loud she had shrieked until Cordelia came running into the hallway. By then Zoe was already on her way towards the front door.

"What's happening?" Cordelia demanded.

"Kyle! He's out there!"

"What? But I thought-" Zoe didn't hear more, but ripped the front door open and ran out to meet him. He slouched in his walk, his steps dazed and his gaze singularly focused on the door. Until he saw her; then his face and entire posture lit up. The waxy appearance of his skin in the porch light seemed to give room for more lifelike features and his smile was almost real this time.

"Zo-e!"

Zoe forgot for a moment that he was a living dead and she overlooked the weird bloodless hole in his forehead, because right now he looked too alive for her to believe otherwise. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. He couldn't give warmth anymore, but even so it appeared in Zoe's chest, the heat transfer of the undying perhaps. Kyle finally put his arms around her and hummed with satisfaction.

"Zoe- be careful!" She heard Cordelia yell. She slipped out of the embrace and turned to find her standing in the doorway. A low growl started at the bottom of Kyle's throat, but Zoe stopped him.

"No, Kyle. Cordelia is a friend. She's family, okay?"

Kyle looked down into her eyes.

"Fami-ly?"

"Yes, family. Her son too. You remember Cage, right?"

The work behind Kyle's eyes was extensive. His eyes almost spun with concentration and then he gestured for something small. "Cage? Lil bo-y?"

Zoe nodded and couldn't help a smile of relief. How he was even alive, she would have to ask another time. There wasn't even a scratch on him, except for the one on his forehead. And if the alligators had reached that far up, his head would no longer be attached to his body. Yet he was still in one piece. She brushed his blonde curls down over the white wound in his forehead and said that yes, Cage was the little boy.

She turned back to Cordelia, who stayed inside looking worried.

"He won't hurt you. I don't know how he's here, but he won't."

Cordelia looked at her for a while. She seemed to recognize something in Zoe's face – what, she didn't know – and then nodded.

"I believe he's calm with you. I'm glad you have him back. But I can't let him in the house."

"I understand. Can he… Stay in the attic again?"

Cordelia appeared to contemplate it. "Can you promise me that he stays up there?"

Zoe shot a quick look at Kyle. He stood calmly by her side and followed the conversation like a slow motion tennis match and with curiosity. Once the growl had stifled, there was nothing threatening about him. Zoe nodded.

"Yes, I can promise that. And he'll be my responsibility."

Cordelia sighed. She didn't look happy, but she agreed. "Okay." Then she closed the door, but left a small creak of light for Zoe to find her way back in. Zoe debated whether to stay in the newly found feeling of substitute home or settling in with Kyle in the attic.

O0O

Misty wandered around Laveau's house. She knew Laveau had a big family, but they must have gone somewhere else, because it was dead quiet in every room. Except for the violent noises coming from a chamber at the end of the hall, the room Damian was in. Misty was not allowed in there and the hold in her head was now so strong that there was no way she could enter without her mind going fuzzy. She didn't even near it, because the compelling voice in her head had her in an iron grip and the strangest kind of nausea followed, when she so much as thought to disobey.

This was the reason she was no longer trapped in the cage all day. There was no way she could leave the house, no matter how much she wanted to. And apparently Laveau had grown tired of cooking her meals. This way she could do it all herself. She was compelled not to speak unless spoken to, not to look for escape, not to 'do any of her witchcraft' – Laveau still seemed clueless to her actual abilities, but too appalled by her to ask.

Despite all these rules it had taken her all of five minutes of her new restricted freedom to realize what was behind the door down the hall. She looked at Laveau with a knowing expression, until the woman caved and hissed: "What?"

"You brought your boy back", she said and Laveau's eyes grew wide. The hate made room for genuine surprise for just a minute.

"How did you know?"

"The air tastes like death." She didn't say it with disgust, only as a simple fact, but it set Laveau off. Perhaps it was too much of a reminder, because she forced Misty back in the cage and drew the doll out. Misty screamed for hours.

She wandered the halls now, but she had found herself compelled into a person she never thought she would be; someone afraid to speak, afraid to even think in case the presence in her head picked up on it. The sound of Laveau's footsteps through the house was somewhat endurable, but the cold aura she felt in her mind whenever Laveau was about to compel her to do something left her cold with terror. It was so much worse than the fuzziness she had experienced at the beginning of this entrapment. And it had started to feel ever present, a constant malignant hum of alien presence.

At the other end of this long hall was the opening into Chantal Laveau's beauty salon. The doorway had been bolted shut and Misty hadn't seen the sister in here once. Only one man ever came into the house and that was Chinwee. She had learned him by name, because Laveau spoke it. She never addressed him herself. She was supposed to hide whenever he came in and in the event that she didn't have time, she couldn't speak to him. She had stopped trying now. Anything to keep that mind numbing nausea away. The needles she could handle, but the grip on her brain was too much. She sometimes wondered if this was how Cordelia felt, when the voices took over.

Rapid footsteps stole her attention. She already knew that it was Chinwee and she read the agitation in his run. So did Laveau because she appeared from the staircase to the basement around the same time Chinwee made an appearance.

"What is it?" Laveau demanded.

"That boy you brought back. He on the run again. Done killed some cop by his mama's house."

Laveau's eyes narrowed and she snarled with frustration. Her head snapped over to Misty and she uttered words in a language Misty didn't understand. But her body did and it obeyed immediately. Everything went black.

She woke up back in her cage, curled up in the corner with her hands around her knees. The basement was empty and there was nothing to distract her from the sickening hum in her head. It was the aftermath of a full overtake. Laveau hadn't wasted energy on her this time, hadn't wanted to fight with her in case this was the day she tried to resist. She had overwritten Misty's mind completely and made her lock herself in here. She had done this before. The keys to the cage, which normally hung on a hook on the wall just outside now lay tossed aside on the floor. When she locked herself in, she couldn't reach the hook and thus threw the keys away so she couldn't reach them in case she became strong enough to fight the voodoo grasp on her mind. She hadn't so far.

After a while Laveau came back, furious and agitated. She didn't talk to Misty at all, but started gathering ingredients for some potion. She did that sometimes and Misty understood nothing of it. She used nature in a way that was completely beyond Misty's grasp. She had no idea the wild could be abused like this. By now she had figured the grainy powder, which had made her this living puppet, came from the same sinister abuse of the nature she knew and loved.

But right now something else stole her attention. Kyle had killed someone and she needed to know that this faceless policeman was his only victim. She stared at Laveau, hissed at her and scratched on the bars and the wall until she finally got her attention.

"If you don't stop that, I'll bring the doll about."

"I gonna keep going 'till you tell me if he hurt my family. Use all the needles you wanna."

Laveau stopped her potion making for a minute, turned to watch Misty. She measured her for a second and apparently decided to humor her.

"It was only the cop. He's with your family now, the boy, but he ain't hurt them or Chinwee would know."

"What did you do to them?"

"Don't get coy with me, witch", she said and pointed her finger. "I'm not the wicked one here. I only erased some memories so those damn cops stay out of it."

Misty thought it was a lie at first, but something told her Laveau was being honest. Madness usually is honest work. It was grief from losing her child; Misty could see it in her eyes every time the subject of Damian came up. She had not yet seen the boy, but his presence was there in the house always. Like a ghost in the corner, a shadow in every word the Voodoo Queen spoke.

"So you helped him? Why?"

Laveau laughed, mocking, but with traces of genuine amusement.

"Please. I want your family to myself. Ain't nobody gon' help them, but I can't have that police all up in my business while I do it. Now shut up and let me work!"

And Misty was forced into silence. She snarled instead, because she still could. The Voodoo Queen ignored her and focused on her potion in progress, all the while mumbling words in that foreign language. Misty only watched her, hoping that at least her continuous stare would ruin Laveau's concentration. If that was all she could accomplish from here, she would have to settle for that.

It didn't work though. Hours later Laveau laughed with triumph from somewhere at the other end of the basement and then came back to Misty, wearing a smile that made the hairs stand on the back of her neck.

"We're ready", Laveau said. "Time to do your part, witch."

"No", Misty said. She knew it was a fruitless attempt, but she would fight this all the way. Even if the spinning in her brain tore her head off, even if the hum exploded her ears. Even if the nausea turned her guts inside out.

Marie Laveau smiled and the mania flashed in her eyes. "You can't disobey me. You will help me."

" _No_."

There was no needle at first. She went straight for the compelling. Misty's insides wrenched, the hum in her mind became a roar, while Laveau yelled at her in the foreign tongue, and the words were needles in themselves. Misty stumbled back, doubled over and threw up. She sank to the floor and then came the real needles. They poked all the way up and down her spine and Misty lost all orientation. She withered on the floor in blind agony, hoping that this would kill her before she could carry out the revenge she was compelled to exert.


	15. Chapter 15

Fiona had thought to take the ring off her finger again to keep curious gazes away, but the sound of Cometh's voice rung in her ears and she let it be. She even thought she liked the sight of it on her hand. She felt beside herself, unrecognizable even to her own mind in this state. It might have felt just like this the first time, when she was engaged to Cordelia's father, but she had long since forgotten. It made this feeling seem so new and foreign. Yet unbreakable somehow. Nothing could touch it.

Except for Cordelia.

She saw it that night when Fiona came home. Fiona had come into the kitchen for an evening coffee and Cordelia had pointed at it. Fiona hadn't thought she would notice, being so caught up in her anxiety about Misty – which frankly had started to affect Fiona as well – but she took a moment out of her worry to notice the shiny object on Fiona's finger.

"You're engaged", she simply said. For once Fiona found her daughter hard to read and not the other way around. Her voice was soft and even, no sign of distaste in her features. No obvious sign at least, but Fiona knew Cordelia's opinion on Cometh. She looked up to catch Fiona's eye. "So he finally proposed?"

"Finally?"

Cordelia smiled a quiet smile. "I'm not blind to the way he looks at you. And he seems the sort to do that. Very gentleman-like."

Fiona nodded. "He is." She felt odd in a way, discussing her fiancé all of a sudden. It was a change of roles in some way and she didn't like it. It made her feel powerless, a slave to Cordelia's verdict. As if it would matter, because there would be no wedding. It was a different kind of promise, this ring. She considered telling Cordelia this, but kept it in. Fiona wouldn't condemn the both of them to her bed side, when one had already volunteered.

"I know it seems like I don't like him, but in truth I don't mind him as a person. He seems very nice."

Fiona nodded and made her coffee. She had to do something with her hands to withstand this awkward tension.

"So you really love him?" Christ, she wasn't going to stop. But this question was also different. She wasn't poking, merely asking. Fiona turned around again.

"Well we can't all be soulmates like you and the swamp monkey, but yes. I believe I do." Fiona stopped as she realized this was the first time she had said it. Cordelia noticed and she gave Fiona a couple of seconds in silence to absorb it, before she said:

"Congratulations, mom." The smile was real. And Fiona felt one following. The atmosphere grew warmer, but with the sudden ease came Fiona's need to be honest. Damn the weakness, she thought as admission pressed on.

She had shaped her lips around the C of her name, when Cordelia's face changed and Fiona took the way out.

"What's the matter?"

Cordelia shook her head, kept her eyes at her own nails. "I was just thinking of work tomorrow. I've been gone long enough now, but I just don't think I can concentrate. I feel like there's something really wrong." They were back to Misty, Fiona had no doubt. Cordelia looked up. "I know we had it worked out, as much as it could be. She wouldn't hide like this. And I can't just…" She cut herself off again and looked around the room with exasperation.

"You will go to work tomorrow", Fiona decided and held up a hand when Cordelia was about to interrupt. "Nothing good comes of sitting around here, pretending to have a cold and waiting for Misty to show up. You go to work, get something else on your mind and I'll find her and drag her back here. With my bare hands if I must."

"What about Cage?"

"I'll make sure to get him another babysitter, if Zoe is too busy."

Cordelia looked like she wanted to argue more, but silenced herself. "Thank you", she then said. She excused herself for bed not long after. Fiona sometimes watched Cordelia and Misty get ready for bed together, those few nights she was at home at the same time. It made her think of how aimless Cordelia looked now. When she and Misty fought over the space at the sink or just chatted while getting ready, a bit of their childhood atmosphere resurfaced and it gave Fiona peace in a weird way. This just looked wrong. She truly looked like a significant weight was missing from her atmosphere.

Misty had better be hanging from some tree, to excuse herself for leaving Cordelia like this.

The next morning Fiona made sure Cordelia actually left for work – which was completely unnecessary because her daughter was nothing if not responsible – and then took to calling their spare nannies. Zoe had fallen off the radar and Cordelia had made Fiona promise not the bother the girl too much.

By noon she still had no babysitter. And her patience was slipping up.

She glanced sideways at Cage and he stared back up at her. Sometimes she swore he read the room better than a normal kid should be able to, because he asked her: "When mama come?"

No one ever doubted which mother he was referring to and Fiona contemplated his words as if they were suggestions made by an adult.

"I could just bring you with me. The path has always been safe. Do you want to visit mama?"

"Yea!" He squealed and clapped his little hands. He got to his feet at once that clumsy way little children do and asked her: "Say hi to Nick?"

Christ, that woman was something. Letting her child play with alligators. She was something else for sure.

Fiona decided to pack him up and go there herself. She brought the little sling to carry him in, but put him in the stroller for as long as it would go. He might be small, but she was too weak to carry even that. Too much exercise and the sweat broke out like a fever on her skin. She had an appointment with the doctor next week and she knew that when he saw that he would have her admitted. The last thing she needed was for the junior doctor to order her a bed at the local hospital.

Sweat or not she would wait for Misty in that godforsaken shack all day if she had to. She pushed the stroller through the outskirts of town and down along the path leading to the meadow where Misty used to live. Fiona hadn't tread this path many times but it seemed more threatening to her today. Cage did his to make the trip light with his constant chatter and pointing and naming things – none of his mother's fear of the woods seemed to have rubbed off on him and Fiona suspected that was Misty's doing – but the darkness remained. The shadows seemed denser.

"Goddamn premonition again", she muttered to herself.

"What, grandma?" Cage asked and tried to crane his neck to look up at her.

"Nothing, darling. You keep counting the trees for me, okay?"

"Okay", he said and continued counting. He counted the trees all the way to the clearing. He couldn't count further than ten, so he just started over, clueless to the never ending line of numbers following ten. Reading an atmosphere like a page in a book was no hardship, but this, it seemed, was too much for his little mind. When they reached the door, they stopped. Cage's cheerful voice ceased to spit out numbers. They both felt it, that peculiar change in atmosphere. The dark of the house.

Fiona refused to be scared by these little intrusive thoughts. She released Cage from the stroller, which had thankfully made it all the way, wiped the sweat from her forehead and led him to the door. No one knew this place, except for the family, and if the goddamn fox had gone out here, she had only laughter. Him she could handle.

She opened the door and the person sitting in the chair opposing the door wasn't Hank. It was Marie Laveau.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Fiona snapped, but the unease registered in her voice to her own regret. She instinctively tightened her grip on Cage's little hand and her eyes scanned the room. In the corner by the kitchen sat Misty, curled up with her arms around her knees and a look of absolute terror on her face.

"Mama!" The sound of his voice rung clearly through the oppressed air and Misty's head snapped up. Her eyes widened and the fear in them intensified. But she didn't move. She only shook her head very slowly.

"Mama?" Cage started to wiggle his hand out of Fiona's, but she grasped tighter around him in response. The naked fear in Misty's face had her heart beating twice its normal speed and she cursed that premonition inwardly. Then she looked to Laveau again.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?"

"Well hello to you too, Fiona Goode", Laveau said, smiling. There was a mania to that smile and it brought a rush of regret to Fiona's chest. Laveau really had lost her mind in her grief and whatever she had planned for revenge, she would do it now. She had warned Fiona, but Fiona hadn't listened, thought she could ignore the war away. Now she was trapped. The door was open yet, but she knew running made no difference at all.

"Whatever problem you have with me, leave the boy out of it. Let me take him back."

"The boy stays!" Laveau hissed. "You don't make no demands, Fiona. I'm in charge now."

"You are goddamn crazy is what you are-"

Cage interrupted her by yanking at her hand. "I wanna say hi to mama!" He sounded nervous as well, but it was impossible not to pick up on the tension in here. He fought against her grip, but Fiona didn't let him go just yet. She looked at Misty, who stared from her boy and to Laveau. Her eyes were pleading. This above all was what made Fiona scared. Misty never pleaded anyone. She was too fierce to ask permission. Her feral aura had not left her though; she looked more like an animal than ever, but not one ready to defend itself. She looked like a cornered rabbit. And Marie Laveau was a taunting wolf.

Laveau nodded then and Misty looked back at Cage, forced out a smile. She unfolded from the curled up position and stretched his hands out to him. The boy fought Fiona's hand again and only now did she let go. He flew across the room and into Misty's arms. She desperately hugged his little body close, but she said nothing to him. When he stroked her dirty face and asked if she was okay, she only nodded and hugged him again.

"What have you done to her?" Fiona demanded.

Laveau laughed, a cruel, mocking laughter. "I can take slaves too. I can torment your people just like you tormented mine."

"For Christ's sake, woman, would you leave it? Delphine is dead and gone and she was a one-woman hate crime against you. I had nothing to do with it."

She leaned forward in the chair and hissed, almost like a snake: "Doing nothin' makes you an accomplice. Hatin' my kind enough to let it go on doesn't forgive that you never touched any of them."

"I don't give two smoking shits about your kind! But mind you, I don't discriminate, because I don't give to smoking shits about my own kind either! You need to stop punishing me for something your twisted mind made up!"

"Enough!" Laveau hissed. "Bring the boy to me!"

To Fiona's icy terror, Misty got to her feet, picked up her son and walked to the Voodoo Queen. She whimpered when Cage asked her what she was doing, but she didn't answer him. She stopped two steps from the chair, still clutching the child in her arms. There was panic in her gaze.

Laveau looked up at her with a leading gaze. Misty clenched her jaw and shook her head, holding the child tighter. The stare down continued until Misty's eyes fluttered, her grip loosened and she let Cage dump onto Laveau's lap.

"Misty what the hell are you doing?"

Finally she turned her gaze to Fiona. "I'm sorry", she whispered. Fiona had never heard her sound so miserable. Their last conversation in this shack was a completely different kind of pain. Last time she was afraid of losing Cordelia. Now she was just all around terrified. She sounded like the little girl who was scared of nightlights once a thousand years ago.

"So you can speak. I thought perhaps she had silenced you somehow." She ignored Laveau's scoff and looked at Misty.

"Can't speak unless spoken to", she whispered.

"What did she do to you?"

Misty opened her mouth to speak, but Laveau interrupted her: "Enough of this! Misty, close the door."

Misty did. Fiona stepped aside, afraid to touch Misty, as if whatever control she was under might be contagious. In the few seconds where they were close, Fiona notice how much Misty trembled. She heard her breathing too; she sounded utterly breathless, as if she was fighting some war Fiona couldn't see. She looked like she could drop to the ground with exhaustion at any moment. Cage started to whimper, stared at his mama with fright, but Misty shook his head at him, held a finger to her lips. He whined a little, but silenced. Again, he read the room like no other kid Fiona knew and he quieted. Or perhaps his mother's terror rubbed off on him and left him just as stunned as Fiona was.

"Fiona", Laveau drew her attention again. "I'm real tired of your face. You think you own this town with your fancy company and your pet witch here. She my pet now and look what she can do." Laveau looked at Misty instead and Misty drew a sharp, trembling breath. "A choice for you, witch. We're going to cut your family here in half and you get to pick which one to cut down."

Fiona's blood froze.

"You're insane…"

But Laveau only looked at Misty. "Make a choice."

"No", she begged. Her voice was weak, the sound of defeat already in it. She sounded like someone who knew the fight and knew the outcome.

The maddest look yet came over the Voodoo Queen's eyes. "Then I guess I'll make it." She looked down at the frozen boy in her lap and began speaking in a foreign language: " _Kill th-_ "

"No! No no please don't, please!" Misty screamed and Fiona found herself yelling the same words with equal panic. She knew nothing of this language, but she understood enough.

"Well then…" Laveau said.

Misty began to cry. She just closed her eyes for a second and the tears streamed down. Her whole body shook.

Then she opened her eyes again and looked at Fiona.

"I'm sorry", she said and it cramped in Fiona's chest. The fear of the coming yes, but mostly the devastation in the wet eyes of her daughter-in-law.

Fiona drew a sharp breath and braced herself.

O0O

Fiona and Misty looked at each other in silence. Misty's eyes grew hard and she started to move. Fiona flinched, backed up against the wall and then she looked to Marie, eyes wide and wild.

"For love of God, stop this madness! She never did a thing to you. She healed your goddamn men!"

"Liar", Marie hissed. She had shut her mind down. Her humanity lay curled up under the blankets at home. Something had come over her the minute her spy had informed her of Fiona's plans to come out here. Now there was only revenge and better it be something powerful enough to fill the hole inside her. Fiona's weak attempts for salvation helped, because it infuriated her. The witch's tears didn't touch her. The squirming child on her lap had stopped moving and that too helped her focus. The weight of his body brought out too much pain and it too focused her. She would put him to sleep soon. "I have a dead child roaming my halls, tellin' different stories", she said to Fiona.

Fiona's eyes widened further and she opened her mouth to answer, but Marie yelled at Misty instead, urged her forward. Misty lunged, caught Fiona by the neck and smacked her against the wall. The old woman's body caved in an instant, resisted none against the shove. The light in her eyes had changed. The fear had gone out of them and only fury was left. Fury directed at her.

The boy in her lap started to cry.

"Hold on a moment, witch." Misty stiffened, a hand still around Fiona's neck. Marie drew out the potion she had made earlier. She flipped the lit off the bottle and forced it into the boy's mouth before he could object. Fiona yelled out, but Marie tuned it out.

The effect was immediate. His eyes fluttered and he fell back against Marie's chest, fast asleep.

"If that stuff kills him, so help me God, Marie, I will haunt you forever", Fiona quacked in a voice choked by tears and fury and Misty's hands. Marie only laughed at her.

"Unlike you, I'm a woman of my words. It's a sleepin' potion. Bit of forgetful roots as well. He won't remember nothin'. Maybe I take him home with me, forget this ever happened?"

Misty snarled at her, a snarl angry and animal enough that the hairs stood on her arms. It only infuriated her further.

"Now get on with it, witch!" The witch cringed.

Eye contact appeared between the two. Misty's hand trembled around Fiona's neck.

"I'm sorry", she whispered again.

"Better you than my own goddamn body", Fiona said. Her voice sounded more strained by the second. "You take care of my daughter. No matter what she might do."

The witch nodded. Then her whole body tightened up, she whimpered and Fiona stared to gasp for air. At first she appeared to resist fighting back, but as the grip tightened, her instincts took over and she flung her arms around, trying to scratch Misty, hit her, peel her off. But Misty was far stronger. Her right arm trembled harder. Fiona made gagging noises, her eye started to bulge. Misty made a swift adjustment of her wrist, screamed and squeezed. When she let go, Fiona fell to the ground, lifeless.

Marie watched from the chair. Her mind had gone blank. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and drew out a small knife. She pointed at Misty, who looked back at her with an empty gaze.

"I know you can't use your powers. But in the event it wears off, I don't want this one comin' back. So you'll cut her heart out to make sure. If you can't reattach limps, you sure as hell can't regrow a heart."

Misty took it without a word. Stared at it and then at the lifeless Fiona. She might still be breathing, Marie thought. Choking someone with their bare hands is hard. Damian had just tried this on Chinwee the other day and he couldn't do it, despite the extra human strength death had granted his small hands.

Marie looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. Just a few minutes ago, she had been dead set on taking the boy with her. There was no way Misty would pick him for death. And he could be her new child, she could make him forget. Only now when she thought of Damian she saw all the ways this blonde little child could never be hers.

Instead of taking him, she got up from the chair and placed him on the ground. He lay still there by the legs of the chair, sleeping a dreamless sleep of amnesia. The potion was made with the same roots the dust that controlled Misty was. Only now it granted sleep and not control. He would wake up later with no memory of this day. He was just a child, not part of the war.

Marie looked at Misty, who stood over Fiona with the knife clutched in her hand. When she looked up, her eyes shone with the purest form of hate. It flashed with the tears, eluded from her ragged breaths. Marie was sure that if she could, she would have gone for Marie herself with that knife.

" _Get to work_!" She hissed and Misty did.

When it was done, Marie left the shack without a second glance.

* * *

 **A/N: So I imagine some of you will be less pleased now. Sorry about that, just know that we are far from done. I wish I could write faster, so you didn't have to wait so long, but alas, my stupid hand sets the pace.**

 **To the one asking, I don't hate Misty. I love her, she's my favorite character. She's also the strongest, which is why she gets dealt the hard cards. That might seem unfair, but from a writer's perspective – mine at least – it's what makes the good stuff. I hope you'll bear with my need to push the characters and see where it takes them. As always, any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.**


	16. Chapter 16

Cordelia came home to an empty house. A small naïve part of her had built up the hope that when she returned Misty would greet her with an apologetic smile and Cordelia would even forgive her mother's non-subtle hints that she had been the one to fix everything, because Misty was home and then this nagging feeling of danger could go away. It had grown all day.

Her heart fell, because now the house was emptier than when she left. Deserted except for Spalding who jumped out of the dark crevices the second she stepped inside. His intense gaze flickered with worry.

"Where are they?" She asked him. He looked sad, but did nothing. Only waited for her to ask a question he could give an answer to. It was his way to be patient like this. "Are they still at the swamp?" He nodded. "No babysitter?" He shook his head.

If the worry hadn't occupied every brain cell not devoted to walking, talking and breathing she would have been furious. She would allow Misty to take Cage out there after much persuasion, but her mother had no grasp on nature. She would get them both hurt.

"I have to go check on them", she said to Spalding. It was to inform him as much as it was to brace herself. She feared the forest more than ever with all that had happened out there and the possibility that it had swallowed Misty up as well.

She had only gotten as far as to unbutton her coat and now she buttoned it up again. She put on different shoes, ones that could handle the unsteady terrain. Spalding reached for his own coat and shot her a pleading glance.

Cordelia understood the question. In her childhood or even just five years ago, she would have reproached at the prospect of this man following her anywhere, but times had changed. Ever since he showed up again, she had learned to tolerate him. It had sprung from intense gratitude at his help in saving Misty and had developed into something resembling actual liking. Now, she felt a bit of relief that someone would accompany her. Spalding had excellent hearing, from what she understood. He might not be the worst companion out there. At last, she smiled and nodded.

"Sure, come along. I could use the company."

He smiled back and held the door open for her. He didn't usually express these manners towards her, that was new too. The new connection seemed to go both ways.

They walked in silence towards the forest and down the path. Cordelia listened for any sound that might signal danger. Bad vibes didn't come to her like they did with Misty and it left her feeling vulnerable. She couldn't fathom what had possessed her to run out here with the sole purpose of getting lost so many times during her life. Only now that she had the means to connect with the wild through Misty, did it show her the merciless persona hidden here in the depths.

It was a clouded day, which should have made the small wildlife peak out from their sun covers, but it was quiet here today. Much too quiet. When they reached the shack there was an aura of silence, which made Cordelia's heart pound as if it conspired to jump out of her chest. It was dark in there, yet she felt a pull. There was someone in there, despite the lack of light. She knew it. She began to run, with Spalding close at her heels. At the door she stopped and instead of ripping it up, she opened it gently, afraid too much sudden noise would evolve badly. Her heart was at her throat now, her body pulsed with anxiety.

She couldn't see much through the crack, but she saw enough. By the bed, curled up and shaking, was Misty.

"Misty!" Cordelia pushed the door open and ran to her. She had eyes for nothing but her trembling love on the floor. She looked terrified, stunned. Cordelia threw herself to the ground in front of her and tried to make contact, but Misty didn't look up. A raspy, growling noise came out of her throat, while she swayed lightly in her locked up position. None of this eased Cordelia's thumbing heart. She hesitated, tried to get a look at Misty's face. Her crystal eyes were fixated on the floor, hard and unresponsive. Her face was wet and dirty and her teeth bared in a snarl. The low growls vibrated from her throat.

Only now did Cordelia notice the blood on her hands. Dirt and blood mixed and caked on her arms and all over her clothes like a brutal, muddy painting.

"Darling, can you hear me? It's me", she said. Her own voice started to quiver as the anxiety blossomed into full-grown fear. "Please tell me you're okay!" When Misty still did nothing, Cordelia put a hand under her chin and forced her gaze up. There was resistance at first, but finally Misty obeyed and met her eyes. Their gazes locked and for the first time today, Misty seemed to register something. Then a terrified whimper came out of her mouth and she crawled backwards with panic until she hit the wall.

The fear built with rapid speed. Misty seemed regressed somehow, deprived of humanity, turned to some primal state. Her eyes shone with pure fright, and Cordelia couldn't remember them having ever looked quite like that.

"Misty, what happened? Please talk to me. Is the blood yours?"

She stared at Cordelia for a long time, before she finally shook her head. "No." Her voice sounded hoarse and broken. The relief her answer offered was quickly gone.

"What happened? Where's Cage and Fiona?"

Tears welled up in Misty's eyes and Cordelia felt like she couldn't breathe. Misty pointed to the corner slightly hidden by her bed. Over there lay Cage on a folded blanket, unmoving and with his eyes closed. Cordelia felt dizzy with terror and she scrambled to her feet to pick up her son. The floor vanished from under her, the universe grew tiny in those seconds and she had to fight not to pass out from the sudden lack of air in her lungs. This could not be happening.

"Just sleepin'", Misty choked out.

"Are you sure?" Cordelia was crying now. She took him into her arms carefully, as if afraid to break him. Felt for his pulse and heartbeat. It was slow, like that of deep sleep, but it was there. When moved, Cage stretched his arms, grunted sleepily and settled in for sleep in the new warmth of his mother's arms. Cordelia cried out with relief and hugged him close. She doubled over him and tried to control the sudden flow of tears. Nothing made sense, but he was breathing and the blood wasn't his either. She drew a few deep breaths and she turned to Misty again.

She found Spalding kneeling in front of Misty, asking her something. They had always been good at communicating and when Misty lifted a finger and pointed towards the door, Spalding instantly picked up on something Cordelia didn't. He bolted out the door and she could hear him run around the shack. His footsteps sounded panicked, rushing. Cordelia pushed it aside and sat back down with Misty. When she did, Misty tried to back away again, but the wall stopped her. It ached in Cordelia's chest, this frantic urge to escape and she didn't understand it. She understood nothing.

"Please talk to me, love. What happened here?"

"Laveau", she whispered. "Voodoo Queen." Then she started sobbing. Every half sentence she choked out opened up for more confusion and more terror. And as much as the crying was a testimony to Misty's sudden regressed humanity resurfacing, it left Cordelia increasingly afraid and it mixed up in the relief and the confusion. Misty reached out and took her hand, closed her own hands around it, as if hanging on for dear life. Cordelia clutched the sleeping Cage to her chest with one hand and tried to pull Misty in with the other. The position was awkward, but Misty crawled into her the best she could. Cordelia could feel her shaking like a scared child.

"I'm sorry", she whispered into Cordelia's coat.

"What are you sorry for? It's okay now, I'm here. You're okay."

"No", Misty shook her head and pushed herself out again. Her wet eyes met Cordelia's and she said: "No. I'm scared she's gonna make me hurt you."

Cordelia felt her whole body turn cold. As confused as she was she now understood why Misty shied away from her, why she wouldn't even touch Cage. She meant it. She wasn't terrified from what had happened, but for what still could.

"Did Laveau take you? How?"

"I don't know. She has abilities. Like me." Misty lifted her hands to her head and ran them harshly through her hair, clawing all the way across her scalp. Her untrimmed nails left red marks. "She's in my head. Delia, I'm so sorry." Her voice broke again and she curled up again, tried to put distance between them, but the wall and the bed wouldn't allow her.

Cordelia wanted to ask more, but just then Spalding came barging back in. There was a stream of silent tears on his face. Cordelia had never seen him cry before. Until this day she hadn't known that he could. Facing this way and with the light illuminating the floor Cordelia's eyes caught the mass of blood. Suddenly the room was spinning into a surreal scene of murder and the blood colored everything. She looked down at her own hands and saw that she had some too. She sat in it. It was on Spalding now too, along with dirt. Cordelia's chest turned to ice.

"What is it?" She asked, but the most surreal kind of knowing had washed over her already. The one piece missing now, the dirt and the blood, none of which was Misty's or Cage's. There was only one left. "It's my mother, isn't it?"

Spalding closed his eyes. Then he nodded.

O0O

Misty watched the tears form in Cordelia's eyes. She stared at Spalding in the doorway and he stared back. For the first time their feelings aligned, because for the first time Spalding expressed a pain just as deep as Cordelia's. His eyes were wet as well and his chest heaved with the cries he didn't have the vocal cords to let out. Misty looked back to Cordelia, horrified at how she might react.

Cordelia started to get up. "I have to see her."

Misty couldn't speak, but she did the next best thing. She grabbed Cordelia by the wrist and pleaded her not to go in any non-verbal way she knew. Then she looked to Spalding with the same prayer. Neither of them really needed a language from her now. Whatever much Spalding had dug up from the brute, improvised grave Misty had tried to make, the sight of her mother dead like that would haunt Cordelia forever.

Her efforts was to no avail. Cordelia insisted. She turned back to Misty and said: "I have to. I need to see it with my own eyes or I won't believe it. Does she look bad?"

Misty nodded. "Yes."

"Oh God." Cordelia put her hand to her mouth to muffle her crying. "I have to see her, Misty."

There would be no convincing her otherwise, Misty knew that. She tried to figure out a way and could only think of one. "Wait here", she said. Then she got up herself. Her knees felt like they were sacks of water stacked on sticks and her body trembled as she rose, her entire being dazed with nausea. She staggered out of the shack – thinking to herself that she might never be able to set foot in there again – and out to the back, where the meadow stretched on a few dozen feet until the line of trees fenced it in. This was where she had buried Fiona, in an indecent hole in the ground. There was a time where she thought Fiona deserved no better than this disgraceful pile of dirt and grass, but now looking at it, the only one deserving of this barren last resting place was Misty herself. She could share this grave with Laveau, if she ever got within biting distance of her again.

The hum of her constant presence still echoed within Misty's skull. It was vaguer now, hours after the last command, but she was there, buzzing like a mad hummingbird. The cicadas of the forest drowned in this noise, the faint breeze of the wind didn't exist. The silence had gone and for a moment it was so overwhelming that Misty had to stop and dig her clawed nails into her head in hopes that the pain would somehow level the noise. It didn't and Misty wanted to scream, but she wouldn't alarm Cordelia more. She couldn't cause her anymore pain or worry now. She could never make good again. She had killed her mother.

At first she had pushed it onto the woman in her head, the controller of her thoughts and actions. Surely she would never be capable of this by herself, no matter how much she had hated Fiona for the way she treated Cordelia. But she remembered. She remembered looking into Fiona's eyes, hearing Fiona telling her to take care of her daughter. _No matter what she might do_. Because she knew she would never pay another visit to the swamp to remind Misty that Cordelia's missteps were only her own self-destructiveness. And then Misty had closed her fist around her neck and squeezed until the last of the air burned up in her lungs.

Misty remembered all of it. And she never remembered a full overwrite.

This could only mean that she had done it out of free will.

Marie Laveau knew she would never harm Cage, no matter the alternative. And she had caught them both in a trap. Even so, there would be no explaining that she with her free will had chosen to choke the life out of Fiona and not lunged at the Voodoo Queen herself. The thought to do so had barely entered her mind, because her baby boy sat there on the queen's lap, unharmed yet.

Misty dried her own tears away and snarled at her body to make it stop shaking. Fiona lay bared on the other side of the dirt hill, pale, empty face and ravaged chest showing. There was a dark hole in the middle of it, edges full of clotted blood, where Misty had dug in. She remembered fighting ribs to get to the heart. It had only just stopped beating, when she got to it and the thought of that body still warm now made her run to the edge of the meadow to throw up. She was cold before, stunned into action by some survival instinct, but now all the rest of her senses were open and aching and she retched until her throat felt raw.

When her chest ceased heaving, she dried her mouth with her sleeve and went back to the hole. Spalding sat by the grave, stroking Fiona's dirty hair. Misty took a second to look at him and feel his pain with him. She wanted to ask him if he really loved her as much as she thought he did, but neither of them could speak now. Her tongue felt like it had curled back into her mouth, threatening to choke her if she tried to speak. Instead of saying anything, she put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned and slapped it away. Misty took a step back in shock and watched his face twist with hurt and anger. His eyes flashes at her, warning her not to touch him again. He blamed her. Of course he did.

She tried to tell him sorry, if not with her words then her eyes, but he walked to the shadows, done communicating. Misty heaved again with a dry, aching cry. She had been so oppressed with how much Cordelia would hate her for this that she hadn't anticipated how much it hurt to see Spalding turn away from her also. For a few seconds she stared after him, but then movement from the house got her back on track. Cordelia could walk out here at any second and her mother lay exposed like some horrific wax sculpture.

Misty threw dirt over her chest. One look at her dead pale face would be enough to convince Cordelia; she didn't need to see the rest. She only managed to cover Fiona to the neck and make some sort of arrangement with the rest of the dirt, before Cordelia stepped around.

"Misty, I can't just sit in there." Her voice shook with tears, but she was still clear. What Misty feared most was the sight of light in Cordelia's eyes slipping away, her lucidity folding back and into the wrap of madness. Surely this could do that to her. Surely Misty would drive her to that point now.

She came around the corner, Cage carefully propped up against her body and still asleep. Her eyes fell on Fiona immediately and a whine of shock and pain wrenched from her throat. Her free hand flew to her mouth again, but the sobs came already. She clutched Cage closer and tried to strangle the cries, but it was too much for her to keep in. Spalding emerged from the shadows and took the child. Misty thought Cordelia would fight him on it, but she looked too weak to even stand and she let him. She looked younger without the child on her hip, like a little lost girl, too sick to stay on her feet. Misty wanted to hurry to her side, to help her, but she didn't dare. She stayed on the other side of the grave, while Cordelia walked closer. It ached in her entire body to see Cordelia trying to wrap her arms around herself to isolate the pain and knowing she couldn't take this pain away. Because she had caused it.

She opened her mouth to say sorry again, but the words strangled themselves in her throat. Cordelia walked closer, shoulders shaking and her sobs filling the otherwise dead quiet meadow. It even drowned the humming. Misty forced herself to meet Cordelia's gaze and when they locked, Cordelia walked straight to her and into her embrace. Misty didn't realize she had invited one, until Cordelia cried against neck. She hugged Cordelia tight, Laveau's hum of presence be damned, and tried the best she could to absorb some of Cordelia's pain. She realized this was the first time since the night she decided to forgive her that they had even touched and this above all made it impossible to let go. She had just forgiven Cordelia. Now she was the one in need of redemption. Only this stretched far beyond the scope of what should be forgiven.

She gave life. That was her calling. She had kept Fiona alive for years and now she had killed her. Her powers could no longer be used. Her abilities had come full circle.

Cordelia drew a trembling breath and stepped back. Her eyes were red, her gaze confused. But she was still there.

"How did she die?" Misty thought her heart stopped for a second. She wasn't ready.

"I-" She began, but Cordelia held up a hand and stopped her.

"No, don't tell me yet. I-I don't think I can handle it today." She rubbed her temple and Misty felt like a cold river on the inside. Cordelia sniffled and dropped the hand again. "But we can't leave her here. I have to get home and make some calls. A funeral, I have to arrange a funeral. I can't let her be buried out here. I don't mean to offend your arrangement, I'm sorry, but I have to…"

"Please don't apologize." Misty begged it with a voice that broke mid-sentence. Her dirty, blood-smeared hands curled into fists in Cordelia's dress, because she couldn't let go, and then gently pushed her away, because she had to. The hum in her head intensified and she was scared Laveau picked up on her change of emotion. She was in there, she could feel things and she could make Misty lash out at any moment. The recent past had proved that.

Cordelia noticed the fight, but let herself be pushed. She lifted a hand to Misty's cheek, stroked it and said: "We should get you cleaned up. Will you come home or shall I get your barrel out?"

"Delia, please…"

But she only shook her head. "I know you're afraid she'll do more through you. But she's done her worst on you and my mother and she didn't want to hurt Cage or she would have already. She can't hurt me more than she already has. Just… come home and help me make sure Cage is okay. Please."

The relief that Cordelia hadn't connected the dots yet didn't outweigh the realization that she didn't know about the powers either. Misty couldn't even keep Cage safe anymore. She was compelled not to use her ability.

The little boy wiggled in Spalding's arms, blissfully unaware of the scene. Misty only hoped Laveau hadn't been lying about the forget-roots. Then at least Cage would escape this night unscarred.

O0O

Cordelia wasn't sure if the absence of the black hole was a good thing or something to cause her even more concern. The voices nagged with I-told-you-so's, but the dark filter of insanity didn't cover her eyes and ears and cloud her brain like the last time she was faced with death. She couldn't let it. She had Cage to take care of and she couldn't leave her little miracle alone while she descended some hole. Still, she worried this meant something bigger, more frightening and yet undiscovered facet of her illness waited for her, ready to engulf her the second she slipped.

She had convinced Misty to come home. They found Cage's stroller on the other side of the shack and propped the groggy Cage down there. The sign that he was slowly waking from whatever false sleep he had been put in helped keep Cordelia on track. The whispers kept insisting he would never wake, but his eyes started to flutter on the way home and she held on to that. Spalding had taken him, so Cordelia could support Misty, who seemed to have lost the will to move. She would have let Spalding take Misty, so she herself could hold Cage, but Spalding reacted with repulsion towards Misty. Cordelia didn't understand why, but didn't have the energy resource to question it.

At home she helped Misty into the bathtub and cleaned her up. Misty kept looking around frantically, kept her hands under her legs, pinned down as if she was afraid she couldn't control them. She was a shadow of herself, half herself. The levity had left her and she acted almost… possessed. Kept running a hand through her hair, clawing at her scalp, eyes wide with a feeling that bordered on panic. Cordelia pried her hand down gently and Misty withdrew it immediately. Her wide eyes darted to Cordelia's and then away, as if a lingering gaze was considered dangerous to her.

Cage woke up fully the morning of the next day. Cordelia had him in bed alone, because Misty had retreated to the greenhouse in the back yard. Cordelia had tried to convince her that sleeping next to each other wouldn't hurt, but Misty shook her head and apologized. Her voice shook when she said it and the look in her eyes made Cordelia think she was apologizing for more than just needing space. Cordelia pondered over this and then she thought about Cage and how to get them back to normal. She occupied her mind with questions like these, because they were abstract and impossible to answer. And so they kept her mind busy enough that she wouldn't linger on the fact that her mother lay dead in the swamp.

It was the early morning and she woke to the sleepy grunts of her son. She hadn't slept much, but somewhere along the small hours of the morning she had succumbed to a light sleep. But despite her exhaustion, she welcomed the feeling of his hands patting her cheek.

"Mommy?"

Her first impulse was to cry. To pull him in and sob until she had no more tears. But she refrained, kept it suppressed. She had to stay composed for him.

Instead of crying, she smiled at him and moved in to kiss his forehead.

"Good morning, love. Sleep good?"

He nodded against the sheet. They both lay on their side, facing each other. Cordelia looked at him for a long time, trying to see if there was any sign he remembered last night. But she found no pain, no fear in his beautiful eyes. Only grogginess and that she could handle.

"Where's mama?" For a moment her chest tightened anyway. He hadn't seen her since she promised to come home soon and yet there was wondering in his eyes, which gave away a hint of worry. As if he knew something was wrong.

"She's outside. Mama doesn't feel so good today."

"I wanna see her." He sat up in the bed, and started to crawl out of it. Cordelia got up as well, helped him off the bed. She wanted to change him into something other than the body stocking he slept in, but he had no time for it. He waddled towards the door and the stairs. He had become good with the stairs, knew he wasn't supposed to stand up before his balance was better, but crawl on his knees instead. He was on his way down, when Cordelia caught up.

"Baby, hold on." She picked him up and put an extra layer on him before carrying him down and out the door. The house was quiet like a ghost town. Spalding hadn't shown as much as a shadow of a foot since they came home. In his mourning, he was even harder to find than usual.

Cordelia carried Cage outside and to the greenhouse. The boy wiggled impatiently in her grasp and demanded to be put down when they reached the doors. Cordelia hesitated, knocked first.

"Misty? Are you in there? Cage and I are here to see you."

They heard nothing.

"Mama!" Cage called and Cordelia shushed him.

"Give her a moment, baby."

A sound came from behind the door, something that might have been a word, but it was too low to make out the shape of it. Cordelia opened the door with caution and stepped inside. She let Cage down, but held onto his hand firmly, not willing to let him go yet.

They found Misty at the far end of the little greenhouse, propped up in a corner, with her arms folded around her knees. When they neared, she looked up and revealed the dark circles under her eyes. They hadn't been as obvious they night before, but now they stood out and reminded Cordelia of what her own reflection had often looked like. Misty's hair was even more impossible than usual, ruffled from the hand constantly running through it. She looked so small in that corner, so frightened. Then she saw Cage and a flicker of opposing emotions ran across her face. First longing, then fading into fright again. She looked up at Cordelia with pleading eyes.

"Delia, please don't."

"It's okay."

Misty looked trapped, as if she wasn't sure whether to flee or welcome them. As if both urges were equally strong.

You did this to her. You made her leave. Laveau wouldn't have gotten her if it wasn't for you.

Cordelia rubbed her temples, tried to think through them. Right or not, they couldn't win now. She couldn't break.

Her momentary lapse in concentration was all Cage needed to fight his way free. He yanked his hand out of hers and ran to Misty.

There were two seconds from the moment he let go, where Cordelia and Misty looked at each other with matching fear. The thoughts poked that maybe Misty was right, maybe she would hurt him, even if she'd rather die than do so on purpose. Cordelia wanted to scream at Cage to come back, but by then the moment had passed and Cage reached Misty in the corner.

He put his little hand on her arm and asked: "You okay, mama? You don't look so good."

Misty's eyes watered up as she looked at him and her features softened. Then she sniffled and nodded.

"I'm okay, pup. I've been better, but I'm okay now."

"I missed you, mama." He didn't remember. He didn't know that he saw her yesterday and was put to sleep. Cordelia and Misty realized this at the same time and a heavy cloud left the atmosphere. Misty opened up her locked position and Cage stepped in, put his little arms around her neck. She hugged her arms tight around him, smelled his hair and then clutched him even tighter. Cordelia watched the reunion and felt a pang of guilt for thinking this could have gone any other way.

"Mama… too… _tight_."

Misty chuckled and loosened up. "Sorry, pup." Cordelia hadn't heard her laugh in ages. It made her heart swell in the weirdest way. She abandoned her lonely stance and went to sit beside Misty and Cage. Misty twitched when she did, but even she couldn't fight it. She looked at Cordelia, asking with eyes only if she was okay. She didn't want to say it out loud, so to not disturb the fragile sense of normalcy they had managed to create for their boy.

No, Cordelia's gaze answered. She wasn't, but she would find a way to get there.

"We'll figure it out."

Misty nodded. And Cordelia leaned in and kissed her. She placed a hand at the frame of Misty's face, stroked her sticky cheek with a thumb, coaxing her to stay in the kiss for just a few seconds longer. Then she let go.

They rested their foreheads against each other's and Misty sighed. "You gotta go back inside. She can feel this and I… I'll come in when I can, okay?"

"Just give me a second to feel like I've gotten you back", Cordelia whispered back. She had her eyes closed, desperate to stay in this limbo as long as possible. All, everyone, she really needed was here and if time would just freeze… Misty moved, caught her lips again in a loaded kiss.

"You have, if you want me." Then she moved back and Cordelia reluctantly opened her eyes. Misty lifted Cage up and placed him in Cordelia's lap instead. "Please go back inside. I'll see you later, I promise."

"Come eat with us, mama!" Cage sounded frustrated, but Cordelia shushed him. Told him not to insist on this and brought him back into the house. She carried the limbo in her chest, tried to nurture it to stay alive when she reentered the cold quiet of the house. She carried it all day, pushed funeral arrangements aside and tended to her fourth graders' assignments instead. Spent the day playing with Cage. Misty came back in for dinner, and left after saying goodnight to Cage with the promise that she would visit again tomorrow. Cordelia ached to pull her in for another kiss, feel her rough nature hands fist in her hair and fuel the feeling of limbo in her chest. But Misty looked too frightened when she neared and she refrained. She only stood on the porch and watched Misty hurry back to the greenhouse and shut the door after her.

After she had put Cage to bed, she looked through Misty's things for something to calm her and found one of her Fleetwood Mac CDs. She gathered Misty's old Walkman and went to the greenhouse with it. Misty flinched when she came close, but she tried to ignore it. Same with the ache in her heart. Misty stared to shake her head slowly when Cordelia came close.

"Sit still", Cordelia told her and crouched down. She put the earpieces in Misty's ears before she could object and pressed play. Music had never kept out her own voices, but maybe it could help this one. Misty didn't talk, but the warm gratitude in her gaze was enough. Cordelia kissed her forehead and went back to the house again.

When everyone was taken care of, there was nothing left to keep her mind busy and she sank onto the couch, dreading the overtake of grief and voices.

Then someone knocked on the front door.

Cordelia blessed the intrusion internally, got up and went for the door. She didn't have thoughts to guest who it was, but felt she shouldn't have been surprised to find Cometh standing outside.

He was a man with perfect composure. She knew he was often angry with her, but it never showed. Now he must be worried that his fiancé hadn't made contact in a whole day after accepting his proposal. For just a few hours it had slipped Cordelia's mind that Fiona was now engaged. There was someone else who would feel the terrible loss of her death. And Cordelia would have to be the messenger.

Cometh tipped his hat and said. "Good evening, Cordelia. Might your mother be here?"

Cordelia sighed deeply, fidgeted with her clothes as she tried to figure out how to start this conversation. "Come on in, Cometh."

"Everything alright?" He asked and she just shook her head. Let him pass her and led him into the living room. He was a tall man, she noticed. She wondered why she hadn't noticed that before. She supposed she had never taken that much time to study him.

"I assume Fiona has told you about our engagement. I hope we have your support." He took a seat in the couch, naturally knowing that the armchair was Fiona's spot and it left Cordelia to sit opposed him on the couch. She couldn't touch the chair either. Cometh eyed her, frowning at her lack of response. "I know you don't particularly care for me-"

"No please, that's not- I'm happy for you. _Was_ \- I… God…" She stopped, trying to form the words again. Cometh shot her a piercing look and she could see the dread starting to emerge in his gaze.

"Was?" He repeated. "What's the matter?"

"She's dead. She died yesterday, Cometh. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you. I meant to find you, but everything's been chaos these past days, and… I'm so sorry." She almost couldn't stand to look at him. She could see that perfect composure starting to crumble for the first time and in that moment she felt more sorry for him than she felt her own loss. His eyes watered up and his hands clutched his hat so tight his knuckles turned white. His jaw quivered and then a tear poked out of his eye.

"Was it her liver? She told me she had more time."

"I don't know", Cordelia answered truthfully. She still hadn't gotten the full story out of Misty. For one part because she didn't think she could bear to hear it and the other because she didn't think Misty would endure telling it. But she doubted it was her liver. Yet the thought that Fiona was getting sick again pricked in the back of her mind, more insistent now. "She didn't even tell me she was that sick again. I didn't know she had problems with her liver." Although she should have guessed.

Cometh nodded ruefully. He wiped the falling tear away and said. "She had. She didn't want to tell me either, but eventually she did. I have been asking the proposal for months and I figured this mystery disease was the reason she refused me. But two days ago, she finally admitted the truth." There was a hint of a smile in Cometh's sad eyes and it started something up in Cordelia. A wave was pulling in, washing over the limbo. It gained as he went on talking. "She told me the doctors had diagnosed her with end-stage liver failure. She refused to let any of us be burdened and she wasn't high on the transplant list, due to her history with alcohol. The prognosis was two months she said. Maybe she wanted to spare us by going this way. Or save her own pride. I told her not to, so it would be just like her to do it. She _promised me_." A flash of anger ran over his eyes.

And then it hit. The wave of realization finally knocked her over and the state of shock she had been in since she found them all in the shack flipped over, turned to the agonizing acceptance that Fiona was gone. It came out so sudden and so violently that she had no time to put together a decent excuse for Cometh to leave. The crying didn't wait. Part of it was the relief that Fiona would be dead soon anyway, part was the anger that she hadn't even told Cordelia about her impending death and part was just the pure white-hot pain of the loss.

Cometh had enough tact to leave her alone to grief and he promised to stay in touch, help with all the arrangements. When he closed the door behind him, it was Spalding who emerged from the shadows to sit with her so at least she wouldn't be completely alone with the sound of her cries. For what must have been the first time ever he sat down on the couch. He didn't touch her, only sat there like a quiet companion. A watchful protector, guarding her grief. She curled up on the couch; a mirror position of the one Misty held in the greenhouse and cried until she fell asleep from the exhaustion.


	17. Chapter 17

Hank woke from something resembling the worst hangover he had ever had. His mind might be dulled by his borderline undead status, but his organs sure as hell felt alive right about now. The paper filter Misty had created did nothing to filter alcohol it seemed. He almost regretted testing his theory.

In truth he had almost regretted it about fourteen times in the past two weeks. After Cordelia turned her back on him for good and he realized he was left with nothing to return to, he saw no reason not to get absolutely hammered. The almost regret hit once a day, typically in the morning, but it was quite possible to drink it away. And so he had. Fuck if anyone saw him. He was so beyond recognition to himself now that he figured he would be to everyone else as well.

Last morning he had woken up in bed with some chick he had found in a bar and though he barely remembered half of the encounter or anything about the night for that matter, there was a feeling in his bones, which said that he had felt just a little more satisfied then compared to the rest of the week. And that was something after all. He left her there and went home with no intention of even remembering her face. She was stuck on the paper filter.

This morning he felt different. He woke up alone and with an accumulated hangover from two weeks, and thought to himself that this was where he drew the line. He didn't know why today of all days was the line-drawing day, just that it was. It felt slightly like that night he woke from death and just knew that the plan was laid out for him. He didn't have to think. Today he knew he had to pick up the slack and he didn't question it.

He went to the Goode mansion. There was still things to be done here, relationships to have. If it wasn't with Cordelia, then at least maybe he could spent some time with his kid. Get to know him. He was a special boy, that much Hank had realized already, so smart for his age. And he had a strangely soothing effect on people that Hank had no idea who he had gotten from. None of his parents had any particularly remarkable people skills, Hank probably least of all.

It took a long time before anyone answered to his knocking. It was a thick door and impossible to hear anything through, but the house seemed quiet beyond that somehow. Like there was a shadow hanging over it. He knocked a second time before the door finally opened. It was Spalding.

Hank had only encountered the strange butler a couple of times, but he didn't think he had ever looked like this. He wasn't a well-kept man, too thin in bones and the hair as well. It hung loosely around is head like a thin dusty curtain. And he was even worse today. His pale skin was ashy grey, except for the eyes, which were swollen and red. The sorrow leaked off him like a cold wave.

"You okay there?" Hank couldn't help asking. Spalding stared back with blank, sad eyes and Hank became uneasy at the intensity of it. "Er, is Cordelia here?"

Spalding pointed to the passage leading around the house. Then he shut the door in Hanks face.

"Some butler", Hank mumbled to himself and went around the house to the back yard. He hesitated when he reached the corner, unsure if this was the right way to go. Misty might be out there and the feeling is his gut today wasn't a compass for trouble. Besides, he didn't feel like losing more teeth.

The back yard was empty, but the door to the greenhouse stood ajar. Hank walked towards it with careful steps. Cordelia used to spend a lot of time in that greenhouse, mostly when she was upset. In retrospective he thought this might have been a way to be close to Misty with all her love for plants and nature and stuff – in fact he was sure of it, even if she hadn't been consciously aware that that was what she was doing – but now they were back together as far as he knew. The fact that Misty had forgiven Cordelia and once again had everything Hank had ever wanted had escalated his drinking quite a bit. And now Cordelia was out here again and it shouldn't make him feel uneasy, but it did anyway.

As he got closer, he heard someone cry. It took him a while to realize it was Misty. It hit him with the most surreal kind of shock. He had never heard her cry, never seen or heard her display any sort of vulnerability. She had fucking alligators at her disposal and now she was crying like a scared little girl.

"Get her out", he heard her say, and wondered whom she was talking about. Was there a third person in there?

He heard Cordelia's voice then, worried but soft and soothing: "You need to calm down, love. Getting worked up doesn't help."

"I want her _out_!" A sob broke through and Cordelia shushed her gently. Hank stood by the door, still hidden and hesitated for a moment. Then he turned, went back to the front door and had Spalding let him into the house. Hearing Misty so completely stripped of her usual cool shook him in a weird way. She was a terrifying woman, but more so when she was out of control. It reminded him of that moment when she had knocked him over and her hands locked around his neck. She had looked so frightened for a second. That stuck with him more than the punches for some reason.

Twenty minutes later Cordelia came into the living room through the door to the porch. She saw him at once and froze.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just came to talk. Spalding let me in." He didn't mention what he had heard outside just before, because Cordelia's eyes were red and her whole body leaked devastation, same as Spalding's.

She sighed, closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I can't deal with this now, Hank. I can't, I-" Her voice started to break and he darted up from the couch.

"What happened?"

"I _can't_ -" She turned to walk out again and he stepped forward, hands raised as if to reveal that he was hiding nothing.

"I'm not here about us. I get it now, I promise. I'm done pushing you on that, just tell me what happened?"

She stood still and looked at him. And then, as if some button had been pushed, she caved in.

"My mother is dead." It was all she could get out before she started crying. He hurried over and embraced her. He kept it clean; let her cry out into his shirt while the shock settled in his brain. He tried in vain to connect the dots, but it was like fitting a star shaped puzzle into square boxes. Cordelia's grief made perfect sense, but he couldn't think up any scenario wherein Misty would be this upset about Fiona dying. And that was the next; what force on earth was strong enough to take the life out of that woman?

Cordelia slowly regained control over herself, sniffled and pushed herself out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spring this on you like that." She dried her eyes and shook her head at herself. "There's just so much to take care off, with the funeral and just processing this- she was sick, but I didn't know it was that bad and I don't even think that's what…" She sniffled again and Hank pulled her to the couch so she could sit down. She allowed him, sat down while she kept on talking: "And- and I had to send Cage to daycare today. I wanted him home, but I can't be in two places at once and Misty is…" She started crying again. If Misty had left her again, he would get a good punch in this time. Still, it didn't fit with what he had just heard.

"Why don't you tell me what happened? How did Fiona…"

"I think it was Marie Laveau's doing", she said and Hank's mind finally snapped into alertness. The pieces started to release themselves from the filter and come together. He knew just what force was strong enough to take the life out of Fiona. He urged Cordelia to tell the story and she told him how she had found Misty, Cage and Fiona in Misty's shack in the woods. There were holes in the story, but Hank got the feeling it wasn't because she omitted; she didn't know. She looked so confused. All the while, Hank's filtered heart sank in his chest, because he suddenly remembered his conversation with the Voodoo Queen many beer bottles ago. She hadn't wanted to tell him, but in reality that was no excuse for him to be this blind. "… And she just won't tell me. She won't let me help her either. I don't know how to keep holding it together, I fear I'm going to break soon and I just can't allow myself that. But I have to arrange a funeral and Cometh wants to see the body, but he doesn't know anything of these… special circumstances." She finally ran out of words and looked to Hank with a pleading gaze. Hank had the weirdest sense that somehow his body had woken up today and known that he was needed here. That was why he went.

"I'll help", he offered. "I know the way to the swamp. I can go make sure Fiona is good for travel and for… being seen."

"I shouldn't be asking this of you", Cordelia said, dried her eyes again and looked at him with apologetic eyes.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. I've been a jerk, let me make up for it", he said, suddenly fighting to keep his own voice controlled. Jerk couldn't cut it. He had really fucked up this time. He suddenly realized just how badly – if Laveau had a finger in this, he might just be accessory to murder. He almost couldn't get it out, but said it anyway: "Go be there for Misty. You of all people know about that stuff right? I'll get Fiona into Misty's shack and then your liver-failure story makes sense, right? Then we can call an ambulance."

Cordelia nodded slowly, suddenly heavy with thought. When Hank asked, she said: "It's just that Misty doesn't want anyone finding that spot-" She shook her head. "No it's silly, of course. We need to call people. Thank you." Her mood was far too grave for a smile, but she lightened just a little. Hank offered a smile, kissed her forehead and got up. Cordelia called for Spalding, who appeared within three seconds, and asked him if he would help. He nodded and went to the door. Hank was sure he had been eavesdropping on the whole thing. He remembered all his jokes about how Spalding's odd crush on Fiona had caused him to stalk her all around Boston and suddenly another piece fell into place.

They entered the clearing not half an hour later. Hank wanted to stop, take a moment to absorb that he was going to find Fiona Goode dead within the next minute, but Spalding allowed no waiting. He waved at Hank and went around the shack at once. Hank followed reluctantly. He had only bad memories here and he was pretty sure this wouldn't be so positive either.

Even so he followed Spalding and found him facing a pile of dirt. Behind it, he caught a glimpse of a head and his heart started pounding. It was stupid really, because there was no uncertainty to work with. The pain in Spalding's face told him so even if Cordelia's devastated confession hadn't been enough. With a thumbing heart, he went around the pile and there she was.

It's funny how facing someone dead almost always make people second guess every bad thought they've ever had about that person. Hank was no exception. He had hated Fiona with a passion. He had wished her gone so many times he couldn't count it. But he had always made sure never to wish her dead, because he had seen what family death did to Cordelia. Now he found himself surprised that Cordelia was so coherent. As if he only just now realized that she was lucid. Sad, grieving and utterly confused, but lucid.

Fiona looked supercilious even in death. A brow was slightly raised, as if she was mocking him even from the deep dark beyond. It would be just like her to do so. Her skin had the pallor of death and she looked heavier somehow. Not bigger, just more solid, as if dying had turned her body to stone. He found himself doubting if he could even carry her. He would have to, because Spalding – now crouching and stroking Fiona's wispy hair while crying – would snap like a toothpick. If not from brittle bones, then from the sheer force of heartache.

He took a deep breath, stepped close and manned up.

"Spalding? Can I take her?" The old man looked up at him and there was a darkness in his eyes. Hopelessness perhaps. He looked lost. "I'm just going to move her into the shack, lay her on the bed. Then we'll get back and call the ambulance for her."

Spalding hesitated. It was so odd seeing someone cry like that, with no intention of hiding it. He really looked like the world around him had ceased all meaning.

Then he nodded and stepped aside.

Hank gave him a nod back and took a moment to plan out the job in his head. He asked Spalding to make sure the door was open and when he left, Hank bend down and scooped his arms under the body of his lifeless mother-in-law.

She was heavy, much heavier that the last lifeless body he carried. He cursed and hoped this wouldn't become a habit. Finally, he gained a solid grip and lifted her. The dirt fell off her and revealed a dark, blood-clotted hole in her chest.

"What the _fuck_?!" Hank exclaimed and almost dropped her. He managed to kneel and put her down somewhat gracefully instead. He sat there, back on the ground and stared at the hole in her chest. He gently, reluctantly – feeling like some twisted pervert all the while – dug her shredded clothes aside to see just how deep the hole went. His stomach turned, he yelled out again and crabbed backwards on his hands, away from the body.

This definitely wasn't liver failure. It was fucking murder and nothing could convince him otherwise.

"Fuck…" He mumbled. And remembered his conversation with Marie Laveau. _I assure you all the rumors are true_ , she had said. Her opponents came to tragic ends. But it was another thing she had said, which stuck with him: _You have the intel, I have the means_. And Cordelia had found Misty here, all bloodied and shaking. And she wouldn't talk. Hank was under the impression she never denied Cordelia anything.

Spalding came out again, looked at him with question. He looked as if he was far too tired to be upset about whatever had made Hank scream out.

"Did you know about this?" He asked him, pointing at the hole. The butler nodded solemnly. Hank looked back at the body. "What the hell have I done?" He said it low, but maybe Spalding heard him anyway. It didn't matter, because he couldn't speak of it either way.

Hank cleared his throat and gave Fiona a last look, before he stood up to finish the job. There would be no calling the ambulance. He wanted to go straight to the police, but from the little he knew of Laveau he was about positive that this murder would never fall back on her.

O0O

When Hank came back an hour or so later, Cordelia had had some time to regain composure. Her defenses were so fragile at the moment, but it strengthened her to know that it wasn't strangers she had to deal with today. Hank had seen her cry a million times and Zoe had been kind enough not to get too flustered, when Cordelia had burst into tears again while explaining the situation to her. Now she was out of the house, tending to all Cordelia's duties. She didn't feel good about it, but she had to stay home today.

The front door opened and the men came back in. Spalding's steps faded out along the hallway and he vanished, but Hank went straight for her. He was pale as a sheet.

"Did Misty talk yet? Did she tell you what the hell happened out there?"

Cordelia's heart started pounding. She was exhausted now, but even so her heart wouldn't stop reacting. Every beat rang with worse news. "What's wrong?" She realized how foolish a question that was to ask, but did so anyway. She couldn't think anymore today.

"What's- she…" He stammered and then stopped. Sat down beside her. "It's done now. But we can't just call an ambulance. It looks suspicious. I, um… I'll figure something out."

"Hank, what is it?" Her pulse hammered into her throat now. It shouldn't be able to get any worse; she was already gone, but somehow Cordelia expected it to be.

"Her chest, it looks like her…" He stopped, as if reconsidering his wording and then said: "It looks like she's been stabbed."

"Oh God", Cordelia covered her mouth with her hand, as a sickening wave washed through her. With all the surreal things happening around her, she couldn't wrap her head around something as simple as brutal human violence. She helplessly pictured Laveau stabbing her mother with a knife. And she knew Misty was a factor in this, but that was one puzzle piece too painful to put into the picture and she shook her head, desperate to knock the images out of her head again. "Oh God, I can't…" She whispered.

Hank caught her again, pulled her in. "I'll figure it out. We'll get her a funeral and if you need me for anything, tell me. I can pick up Cage."

Cordelia swallowed her crying and shook her head. "I have Zoe to pick him up."

"But I'm his father. I just want to help."

"I appreciate it, Hank, really." She sniffled and dried her eyes again. "But it's too new. I won't send a stranger to pick up my son and you are still almost a stranger to him."

"Okay then I'll cook. I don't want to just leave you with all this."

"It's kind of you, but I need you to go." He looked at her incredulously.

"But, Cordelia-"

"Please. I'm trying to hold everything together and with you here… It stresses her and…" Cordelia trailed off, but the look on Hank's face told her he had no trouble figuring out who she talked about. He looked as if he was about to get angry but fought it down. This was one of the new things about him; he was never able to fight that down before. This would be where a fight would start, but today he calmed. He spoke his words more firmly, he was obviously indignant, but he didn't yell.

"Fine. But I'll come back and check on you. And I'll call you about what to do with, um, Fiona. I'll keep 'the special circumstances' on the down-low."

"Thank you", Cordelia said and with real warmth. Funny, she thought, how a voice like that could keep coming out of her when she felt so cold on the inside.

"We'll at least need some new clothes for her", Hank said. Cordelia agreed, found some for him and then he left. When the front door closed, she went back out into the greenhouse.

Misty sat in the same position she had left her in, still curled up in the corner. The trails of tears were dry now, but she looked haunted as ever. And exhausted, yet agitated, as if her mind and body were split between too opposing personalities.

Cordelia went straight to her, crouched down in front of her and said: "I need you to tell me what happened out there."

It took a few seconds before Misty moved her head and looked at her. Her face was smeared with dirt and it made her blue eyes stand out. They flickered with fright.

"You don't wanna know", she said.

Cordelia shifted her balance, moved a little to release the frustrated energy from her body. She put a hand on Misty's knee, because she couldn't reach her hands.

"I just told you I do."

"It won't make you feel better." Her voice was even, still rough from screaming, but steady now. She wouldn't cave. Not for anything.

"Just tell me dammit! Hank says she's been stabbed! It's my _mother_ , I deserve to know!" She cried again, cursed herself for being so weak when she needed strength. Misty's hand came into her view, closed around hers.

"You don't deserve to know what I know, Delia. I can't put that on you. I'm sorry."

Cordelia withdrew her hand again. "You won't tell me and you won't let me help you. I can't be this useless to you. I just can't." She got up, wiped the tears away again. "I'll go prepare dinner. I hope you will come in and join us."

"Is Hank still here?" Misty asked. She didn't sound angry, didn't look it either. Just scared and tired.

"No", Cordelia said. "I sent him away, because that's apparently all I can do for you."

Then she left the greenhouse again.

Misty came in for a quick dinner later, but said as little as possible. Only choked out a few words whenever someone spoke directly to her. Zoe tried to engage in conversation with Cage, to keep his mind occupied, but the boy was far too bright for his own good. He sensed the atmosphere the same way Misty did and he wasn't fooled. But no one had answers for him.

The night came, Hank called and said he had called the hospital and gotten them a mortician to ready the funeral and there was nothing more to do but wait. It hit Cordelia the hardest, the waiting. She had put Cage to bed and Zoe had gone to keep Kyle occupied. She was alone when she went to bed herself.

Then there was a faint knock on her door and Misty stepped in. Cordelia sat up straight, expecting Misty to reveal that some new facet of horror to their story, but she only closed the door and stepped close to the bed.

She gave Cordelia a leading stare and Cordelia asked: "What is it?"

"Being close to you helps", Misty said. "Even if I'm scared she's gonna make me do somethin'. That okay?" Her tone was asking, as if giving Cordelia the out, in case she was scared also. Cordelia couldn't gather words to tell Misty that there was no choice. Instead she drew the covers aside, leaving an open space for Misty to take. She did so hesitantly, feeling her way, not for the bed, but for her head. Finally she laid down on her side and Cordelia settled in beside her, became the big spoon. She sifted through Misty's hair with her fingers, drew it away from her face. Misty's features folded into nervousness, her body tensed, but at least she was here.

"She's not so present tonight", she said then. She turned her head, looked up at Cordelia. "Hold me?"

Amidst all the different kinds of pain that she was in, Cordelia felt her heart break just a little at the simple request. She inched close up against Misty's back and put her arm around her. Misty grasped for her hand and put it to her chest. Cordelia could feel her heart beating fast with anxiety.

"I'll hold you all night if you need me to", Cordelia promised. She thought she felt Misty's heartbeat settle down a little. Her body relaxed and she fell asleep almost at once.

Not many people turned up for the funeral. Fiona was someone you could never ignore and you could never forget the imprint of her presence, but she didn't have many friends. In truth she just wasn't liked. A few former colleagues had come to pay their respects and Cordelia thought she recognized Cecily Pembrooke, Fiona's most persistent secretary, but the weight of the turnout was carried by those occupying the Goode Mansion. Hank was there, much to Misty's distaste – and she might have made a bigger spectacle out it, had she had the mental resources – and Cometh as well. They made a nice row in front of the casket, as it was lowered into the ground. The hospital was notified, Hank had somehow worked around the aspects that went against the liver failure story and left was only to say goodbye.

Cordelia hadn't expected how empty she would feel. Fiona had never been the mother Cordelia was looking for. There was always that cleft between them. Her mother was a monster under her bed, she was the statue in whose shadow Cordelia had always lived. She had spent most of her life trying to please her mother, connect with her or get away from her. There was a part of her, which felt relieved that the constant fight was over. The same part, which now made her feel empty. A whole persona of hers was missing and she didn't know what to do with that space. She didn't know how to process it and while the tears fell from her eyes, it didn't feel like they washed away any pain, the way crying is supposed to. She felt like she cried to no avail.

Misty's hand slipped into hers, when the tears started to fall. Cordelia looked at her quickly and saw the pain there. She thought she saw guilt also, but she didn't have resources to process that either. Misty was a mess today, however well she hid it – and she did, because there were people here that she didn't know and Misty was very feral that way. But she was barely holding it together. It reminded Cordelia a little of Hank's funeral, only the roles were reversed. She could barely remember that funeral, so far gone in psychosis she was then, but she wondered how Misty had done it. Misty knew how to keep herself upright and keep Cordelia safe at the same time. Cordelia did her best to shield Misty, but she had no idea how to keep herself upright. She didn't know how it was that she was still standing. She only knew that her three-year-old son sat right beside her and he had just lost his grandmother. His second mother was too plagued to take care of him now and the line ended there. So there was no allowance for Cordelia to break down and quit now. Or he would have no one.

The priest finished his words and they all stood up. One by one they went to the hole in the ground, one last look at the descend of the great Fiona Goode. She always said Papa Legba would get her soon enough. Now he had. Cordelia wondered if she had seen him coming too. Had he tipped his hat at her the same way?

Cordelia looked at Misty to see if she wanted to go, but she shook her head and stayed back as Cordelia carried Cage to the hole.

"Say goodbye to grandma now, baby", she told him. He looked at her first and pointed at the casket. Cordelia nodded.

Cage turned his head, hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words and then said: "Bye grandma." His voice was light, not cheerful, but not weighed by sadness either. As if he was just sending her off on a trip, expecting her to return in a week's time. It was the lightness of his voice that made Cordelia break into tears again. She kept upright, still not sure how, but suddenly crying felt like releasing something from her chest.

"Goodbye mother", she said and turned. She couldn't stand to be near the coffin any longer. She sat back on the chair, hugged Cage closed and let the tears flow free. They felt so good.

Misty sat beside her, trembling, curling her hands into fists and staring intensely into space. She didn't appear to be looking at anything, rather she looked inside. She was fighting again. Cordelia wanted to reach out, do something to relieve her, but she was too trapped in her own pain to do so. She couldn't help. Instead she watched Zoe step forth, throw gravel into the hole. She came and offered to take Cage, but Cordelia shook her head. She needed him or she would fall apart.

Just then Misty got up. Her walk was stiff, as if every cell in her body fought against it, but wasn't powerful enough to overwrite it. She staggered to the grave, stopped and then her body relaxed.

She spit into the grave, mumbled something in a language Cordelia didn't understand and turned on her heel. Her face was completely blank when she walked by the chairs. She crossed the cemetery and kept walking until she was out of sight.

"What just…" Zoe trailed off again, looked to Cordelia, but received no look in return. Cordelia kept staring at the spot where Misty had disappeared. For a few timeless seconds everyone stared after her. Cometh had seen it too and he was just about to burst into a fit of rage, when Hank put a hand on his shoulder and talked him down. Cordelia couldn't hear what he said and they soon moved further away, towards the hole, which should be Cometh's rightful point of focus.

"Where did mama go?" Cage asked, but no one answered him. A wild anger pushed to blossom in Cordelia's chest as well, but it kept losing to the cold fear of knowing that Misty's wasn't in control of her own mind anymore.

O0O

Misty hadn't crawled under the bed since she was a little girl. She hadn't needed safety this badly since she first came to this house and everything smelled so foreign. Now when she was scared she would usually go to Cordelia, find safety with her, but when she woke up from the trance to find herself in the middle of the street and nowhere near the funeral, she felt the strongest urge to seek away. She couldn't remember what she had done, because there was only black where her memory should have been, but she remembered her feet carrying her towards the grave when it all went dark and she was sure she had done something awful. All she had in her head was Laveau's hate and she wasn't strong enough to stop it. No matter how much she fought. The hum of it had exploded in her brain and while only a faint echo remained now, it reminded her that she was never safe. She would never be safe from her compeller.

She could tell from the light that it was much later when Cordelia's steps finally carried her inside the room. The door was carefully closed, the light turned on and the steps continued around the bed. Misty tried to taste the air for anger or hurt or whatever she had triggered in her compeller's overwrite and found the atmosphere flavorless. She couldn't decipher it.

Cordelia sat down on the floor next to the bed.

"Are you okay?" She asked. Her voice was calm, soft. Worried. The worry stung most of all.

As soon as she was addressed, the spell wrapped around her tongue grew faint enough for her to speak. But she had nothing good to offer.

"I did somethin' terrible, didn't I?"

"You don't remember?" She didn't sound surprised. More like she already knew what Misty was going to say.

"No", she admitted. She looked at the folds of Cordelia's black dress as it fell over her knees. It was all of her she could see from here.

Cordelia breathed a small sigh. "It doesn't matter. Will you come out please?"

Misty tried to work her way to the edge. This was much easier when she was a kid, she didn't fill up the space under the bed quite so much as she did now. Her neck was stiff from lying in there and it took effort to wiggle herself out. When the light finally hit her face she squinted, pulled herself the rest of the way out and sat up to face Cordelia.

She looked older somehow. As if all this grief was robbing years off her life in mere days. And she looked sad, just sad. She was lucid and she was there, it was just that sadness, as if the usual palette of emotions was unreachable for her today.

"I'm sorry", Misty said. She didn't dare ask again what she had done, she just knew she needed to apologize.

"You weren't yourself", Cordelia murmured. She reached up and rubbed her temple. She did this the way any other would when they succumb to a habit, only this wasn't the same as running a hand through the hair or picking at your skin. This was keeping the psychosis away. Keeping the voices in check. Cordelia appeared to have the same thought, because she looked at her own hand and chuckled helplessly. Then she looked back at Misty. "Do you know who would have great experience battling a foreign voice in their head, someone telling them to do things? Me."

It took Misty a while to realize what she was talking about and then her heart fell. "Delia…"

"Why won't you talk to me?" Her eyes filled with tears, flashed with the devastation from Misty's constant rejection. "Why won't you let me help you? Are you still angry with me?"

Misty felt the old iron fist clench around her heart again. Her body turned cold when it held her like that and though Cordelia's gaze burned her eyes, she couldn't shake that cold. She was still mad, in a way, but that didn't change the fact that Cordelia would hate her if she admitted the true reason for her silence.

"I don't know, but… I ain't ready to talk 'bout what happened."

"Then talk to me about something else. Anything. Please. I can't stand the silence anymore, Misty." Her voice broke at the end. Misty swallowed the lump in her throat. She started fidgeting with her dress, uncomfortable with the question she needed to ask, but she knew this was the time to get it out.

"Can I ask you 'bout… the other thing?"

It startled Cordelia a bit it seemed, and she looked like someone about to take a hit, but she nodded anyway. "Yes."

"Your mama said you don't know how to be happy. Or stay happy. That's why you did that thing. That true?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Then she chuckled again, a breathy, incredulous laugh. "I suppose you could say that. Fiona did used to tell me I have a knack for self-destructiveness."

"So that's all? It's not… him?" Misty kept diverting her gaze. It was too much watching her words hurt Cordelia like that. She didn't even cover herself from the blow, she just took it while the tears silently left her eyes.

"No, darling, it's not him." Misty heard her say.

"'Cause I know you still love him", Misty muttered into her own shoulder.

"Please look at me." That voice was a compeller in itself. She looked. Cordelia's eyes were wet, shimmering in the light, but dead serious. "I do love him. But not enough that I want to be with him. And not enough to excuse what I did to you."

Misty wasn't sure if the admission offered her relief or more questions. She nodded to show that she understood, all the while looking at Cordelia's pale hand. She wanted to take it, but the few inches between them started to look like a mile long cleft. She just wasn't sure she could reach over there.

"You're all I've got in this world", she said instead. "You and Cage. And that's all I want." She looked up again. "But do you want somethin' more than that? Somethin' I can't give you?"

Cordelia exhaled with exasperation. She went quiet for a moment, while looking around the room, gathering her words. "I want… I want to feel like I'm enough. I never have. I don't know that anyone can give me that."

"You've always been enough for me. You're my life, Delia."

She smiled and reached out. The abyss shrunk down in a matter of milliseconds and her hand closed around Misty's. A bit of warmth finally reached under Misty's skin and loosened the iron fist enough for her to catch a healthy beat of heart.

"I know", Cordelia said. "And thank you. I don't doubt that anymore. But I meant that… I want to be enough for _me_. I want to be able to handle myself, handle Cage without help. I need to know I'm not chained to anyone with dependence because of my demons."

On the first floor, Cage started crying. Misty held onto Cordelia's hand as if for dear life, but she didn't know what to say. She always knew what to say, but now she was at loss for words.

"I have to go check on him." She loosened the hold on Misty's hand, but swept it under her chin instead and pressed a kiss to her lips. Misty made fists of whatever she could grasp of Cordelia's clothes, trying to keep her there. It was the only way she could express herself. When Cordelia moved to get up, Misty let go without protest and let her leave.

O0O

Marie sat in the rocking chair of the old nursery, slowly rocking back and forth. She held no baby that needed calm; the rocking was for herself.

She had won. She had defeated her lifetime enemy, and now the enemy was dead and gone. Put into the ground. Her heart saved as a bleeding trophy, stashed away in the basement in a jar of its own. It should feel like a victory. It didn't. The triumph had been a short taste, because killing Fiona solved nothing. She had had her revenge and now all she had was… aftermath. An empty house, because Chantal had bolted the door to the saloon shut and left. They had all left, wanted nothing to do with her obsession and her ravenous, half-dead child. She had nothing now but echoing halls, her short taste of victory and the shadow of Papa Legba. He felt ever-present these days.

She felt after the Goode witch, reached out through their minds' connection. Tried to see through her eyes and see what she was up to. The view in her mind's eye was fuzzy, as if looking through a dusty window. The witch was strong. She constantly fought against Marie's orders and she was hard to compel at this distance. Emily, the nurse, she could order around with no effort, even from miles of distance. Most of her subjects were easily overtaken, but not this wild girl. Something as simple as making her spit in Fiona Goode's grave had Marie working up a sweat. She almost shook the curse off; she was that strong. But the hold hadn't broken yet. Still Marie feared and she couldn't let Misty know this. There was a moment in that shack where she didn't think she would be able to compel Misty. One thing was making her spit on a woman she didn't particularly like herself, but forcing her to kill her own child – that was another thing entirely. Luckily the threat had been enough.

Marie thought of that child now. He was a precious one. Almost as pretty as her Damian. She wondered if she could have gone through with it, have the witch kill the boy just to make an example of it. She thought of Fiona's daughter then, unwillingly so, because she didn't want to imagine it. She didn't want to put the loss of a child on anyone. Not just because of her promise to not harm the other Goode girl, but because she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. Then better they be dead and not bother her. She had gone easy on Fiona compared to that pain.

At the other end of the house was a knock on her front door. From the other room, Damian started wheezing and scratching on his door to get out.

"It's okay, baby", she said to Damian as she walked by the door.

Outside, still knocking, stood Hank Foxx. His face was ashy grey and his eyes wide with incredulity. She would have found his shock amusing, if she wasn't so preoccupied.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

He blinked and appeared to be collecting himself for a few seconds before he looked at her, reproach taking form in his gaze instead.

"You used me."

"That was the deal, honey."

He looked perplexed, frustrated beyond comprehension. "But I- I never agreed to that! You… you murdered her." He lowered his voice when he said it, as if afraid to speak it out loud. Useless, Marie thought, because done was done.

"Well, what did you think I was gonna do, hm? Ask her nicely to quit botherin' me? And let's be very clear, _I_ didn't touch her."

Marie could see some realization dawn him, something falling into place in his head. "So it's true then? You made Misty do it?"

Marie waved her hand at him. "Don't belittle yourself, you were a great help." It made Hank cringe. He was about to speak, when Damian started to whine, frustrated and scared by the foreign voice. He never was good with strangers.

"What's in there?"

"None of your business", Marie snapped. "If you're just here to whine, then I got better things to do, Foxx. Your part is done, go home and celebrate your freedom."

"But you didn't keep your part of the deal", he said then and the reproach returned. "You promised you wouldn't hurt Cordelia, but this most definitely hurt her."

The hint of regret that lingered from before blossomed at the mention of the other Goode girl's name. She shouldn't feel this, she shouldn't care about that woman. She couldn't, because she had to put herself and Damian first. She pushed it aside, before it had a chance to latch on too tight and pierced Hank with a cold gaze.

"You should have been more specific." With that, she closed the door in his face.

She sat back down in her rocking chair and pulled the little doll out. The witch might be too strong for compelling this far, but there were still means to break her down and make her tame. Marie pulled out her box of needles and began to poke.

A couple of miles away, Misty started screaming.


	18. Chapter 18

Cordelia's skin stung. She had gotten so used to Misty healing up her cuts almost immediately after they were made, that feeling them rub against the fabric of her skirt felt almost odd. Strange and unusual. But Misty was too busy with the voice in her head. The hum, she called it. As if it was just the knowledge of someone there, instead of an actual voice. Cordelia tried to imagine it and found it much too easy. Only Misty wouldn't acknowledge that. She would rather hide herself away in the greenhouse than let Cordelia help. She said it was to keep from hurting her, but there was something else. Misty was scared and she was holding something in, something big. Cordelia could see it throb within her, like a malignant pulse under her skin, a shadow in her eyes. And she couldn't force Misty to tell. God knew she had tried, even if she had no right to. She thought maybe they had come closer to patching up what Cordelia had wrecked, but every time Misty stopped talking, Cordelia felt unsure. And the whispers bashed her.

The front door opened and Cordelia heard Zoe make her way in with the groceries. She had been a great help in the past few weeks, stepping in to do most of the duties that was usually Misty's. She did so without being asked, said she was happy to, but Cordelia still felt like she was using her. And watching the once so cheerful young woman move through the house with a dull expression on her face and anger bursting out of nowhere, she felt even more as though she was stealing Zoe's youth away.

She went to the kitchen to find Zoe stuffing the foods away. She didn't look up when Cordelia entered.

"I can do that, if you want to go read your book or look to Kyle", she offered, but Zoe only gave her a stiff shake of her head. Cordelia stepped a little closer.

"Your classes start again at the university soon, don't they? I don't want you to feel like you helping me out gets in the way of your studies."

"I'm not going back this semester", Zoe said, eyes fixated on the shelves in the fridge.

Cordelia felt a knot of worry tighten in her chest. Zoe's constant presence had started to make Cordelia feel like she was more than just a babysitter. Zoe was close to Cage in a way that wasn't just duties of a job, she was a friend to Misty and she had become something of a pseudo-daughter to Cordelia. It was the feeling of a worried mother that gnawed in her chest. "Honey, are you sure you want to do that? If you're worried about Kyle-"

"Kyle's fine!" Zoe interrupted and finally looked Cordelia's way. Her eyes flashed with that boiling frustration, which had overtaken Zoe insidiously throughout the past week. She looked away again. "It's not Kyle, it's not you guys either, I just… I need a longer break."

"Have you talked to your parents about this?"

"They have nothing to say."

This worried Cordelia more than all the rest. Zoe had always spoken of her family as a comforting, reassuring one. Her parents were supportive and hearing her talk like this, like a scared, lonely child made Cordelia's heart ache.

"Did something happen between you? You know you can talk to me, don't you? Hey…" She reached out to make Zoe stop her robot-like routine of stuffing the fridge, but when she touched Zoe's arm, the girl flinched and jumped away.

"I'm fine, okay? Just leave me alone." She almost threw the last thing in there and left the kitchen. Cordelia stood back, feeling like a failure.

No one needs you. You can't help anyone. What makes you think she wants your meddling, any of them? Pathetic.

She shook her head and rubbed her temple, took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind.

What would your mother say? Turning in her grave. They hate you.

She grasped the table for support, because she felt dizzy now. She felt the ground open, the colors fading to black. God, this was the wrong time to get caught in a hole, but slipping would be so easy…

"Mommy?" Cage's gentle voice cut through the whispers and the black and when she opened her eyes, he was standing right in front of her, holding a children's book. She breathed a sigh of relief and praised her little boy for knowing just when he needed to be her anchor to sanity.

She crouched down in front of him. "Yes, baby?"

"Read this to me?" He held up the book and let her take it. For a moment, they just looked at each other and Cage stroked the side of her face with his little hand. He touched her temple with a finger, as if he knew the monsters in her head had a soft spot right there. Cordelia had the sudden urge to sweep her son into the tightest embrace and just cry.

"Of course I will. Where do you want to sit?"

They read books until Cage couldn't sit still anymore and Cordelia felt stable again. Which occurred around the same time. She didn't see more to Zoe that day, but she could stand it now. Cage had somehow managed to dissipate the shadows enough for her to think clearly again.

When Cage was put to bed, it usually didn't take long before Cordelia turned in herself. The house was too quiet. She hadn't realized how much her mother's presence – despite her spending more than half her nights at Cometh's – had filled the house. It was _her_ house and every room screamed of her missing. Every piece of furniture started to look like a coffin and every color turned to the pallor of her face in death. So Cordelia went to bed and hoped she could sleep the waking nightmare away.

Misty came in this night and crawled into bed next to Cordelia. She never said much, she only needed to be held and Cordelia did so gladly. Sometimes they would talk, not about the deaths or the infidelity, and never about Marie Laveau, but about regular everyday issues. They needed just an hour of normalcy to keep level with all the insanity brewing around them.

"I'm worried for Zoe", Cordelia said, while sifting her fingers through Misty's wild curls.

"What'd she do?" Misty asked. There was space enough between that they could see each other's faces and Misty's forehead creased.

"She just… She told me she won't go back to college this semester and that's not like her. And she seems agitated. Sad. I'm worried this house, this whole situation is taking too much of a toll on her."

"I think everyone's exhausted right now. Maybe she needs a break. College will still be there next year, right?"

"Right", Cordelia said. "I'm just worried it's something more. And I wish I could help her."

"I think she knows that. But she gotta come to you. Don't push her." There was a whole second load to Misty's words, Cordelia knew that. She agreed with a sad smile and they didn't say more that night. Slowly, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in a loose embrace.

Cordelia found Zoe in the upstairs bathroom a few days later. She rarely went in there, because it was connected to the master bedroom and was therefore private to Cordelia and Misty. So when Cordelia saw the lights on in there, knowing Misty was in the greenhouse, she was alert even before she heard the crying.

She thanked every god she knew that Zoe hadn't think to lock the door, before she burst in. She didn't possess the same grace Misty had when dealing with this and she gasped. She had never been on this end before.

Zoe sat on the edge of the bathtub, trembling, and held on convulsively to a scissor, the sharp end of which poked into the skin of her left forearm. Three bloodied lines ran across her skin. Cordelia stood shocked for a moment and watched the scene. In those few seconds, time rushed past her in reverse until it was the teenage shape of herself sitting there at that same edge. Then as time hurled back to the present she saw herself grow older, but still chained to this habit, until time stopped at just a few days ago, when she had last been sitting there, the scissor swapped for a new razor. The vision was so powerful that tears came to her eyes and the mother's love that had started to grow for Zoe blended with the harsh realization of just what kind of role she portrayed for this girl.

"Zoe, darling…" She went to her and sat down in front of her. Despite being shaken to the very core just seconds ago, she found a way to make her voice come out even, comforting and secure. "I'm so sorry you feel this way. Here." She reached for the scissor and with some reluctance, Zoe let her take it. Her eyes were watered up, but hard and fixated on a spot behind Cordelia. She looked both ashamed, desperate and lost at the same time. Cordelia reached up until she was at eye level and put a hand under Zoe's wet chin.

"This doesn't solve anything."

"How do _you_ know?" She said through clenched teeth, her voice shaking but with an undertone of defiance.

"Because…" Cordelia hesitated for a moment, debating if peeling this layer off herself would make her an even less suited role model or a better one. She found it would at least make her an honest one. "Because where you sit, I sat two days ago. I have been where you are now since I was seventeen and I can tell you with absolute certainty that this is an addiction that is almost impossible to fight and one that will never truly offer the release you seek."

Zoe's eyes widened as Cordelia spoke and now she stared in shock, until her emotions caught up. Her bottom lip started quivering, her eyes watered up anew and then she burst into tears. Cordelia got up and sat beside Zoe on the bathtub edge, pulled her close and let the girl cry.

When the sobs subsided, Cordelia wetted a paper towel and started to clean off Zoe's arm. Zoe looked at her doing it, sniffled once in a while and Cordelia tried to focus on the fact that she might have caught Zoe in time. She needed to believe that she could save this girl, because all she could hear was the whispers telling her she was a fool not to see this happen. That Zoe was truly becoming her and what a shame that was.

"But your arms are so clean", Zoe said after a while, and she dragged a hesitant finger over Cordelia's forearm as if to check.

"That's because I didn't cut where anyone would see. I wanted to keep it secret. I don't even think my mother knew until years later."

"Can I see?" Zoe lifted her head from Cordelia's shoulder and looked at her. The thought of showing her legs made her self-conscious, scared even. It was highly inappropriate. Even so, she pulled up her skirt just over the right knee, where the newest one was carved into her skin. Zoe's eyes widened again, as if she hadn't really believed it until now.

"Misty has helped me a lot, healed away most of them, but despite that, some are still visible. And even if they're gone, Zoe, I still see them every time I look at myself. Cutting goes beyond skin damage and I think you know that already."

Zoe nodded, wiped a tear away with her finger.

"Will you tell me what has made you do this?"

For a moment, it looked like she really wanted to, but then she shook her head.

"I will have to call your parents about this."

"Don't bother. No one's home." She got up then and went for the door. At the doorstep she stopped and turned around again. Her soul lay bared in her eyes for just a moment. "But thanks for the talk. I really mean that."

Then she left and Cordelia sat back with the almost unshakable urge to pick her razor out from the shelf again.

O0O

Misty tried her best to stay inside the house. She was quick to retreat to the greenhouse and turn on her Stevie whenever she felt the hum too present, but as long as it remained a docile threat she forced herself to stay in. She wanted to be there for Cage and for Cordelia in the extend that she still could. Especially Cage, because smart as he was, she couldn't explain to him what was happening. He simply didn't understand.

She thought of him often like this, used him as a reason to keep fighting to stay sane under the pressure of Laveau's presence in her head.

Sometimes she blacked out for a few minutes at a time – and she knew it was only minutes because she kept checking the clock – and it made her want to crawl under one of the tables in the greenhouse, even if it was just a short glitch. She couldn't stand not knowing what had happened during that time. She had done something terrible at that funeral and Cordelia wouldn't tell her what. She knew she hadn't physically hurt anyone, but she figured she had spited Fiona in some way and she was sure it had hurt Cordelia.

She sat in the living room with Cage, when suddenly the air felt dustier and an ominous kind of pressure began weighing down on her brain. The hum in the back of her mind went from a quieted noise to a roar and she held her hands to her ears, because she thought it would burst through them in a minute. She tried to back away, to turn away because she knew it was the compelling and she wasn't supposed to be around anyone when that happened.

Cage looked up from his train track and stared at her with worry.

"Mama are you okay?"

She tried to nod, but her body didn't work right. She wasn't the only one giving it commands now and someone – and she knew who – was trying to take over. She ran a hand through her hair, clawed at her scalp in hopes the pain would distract her or in some way hurt Laveau.

Then came the command.

 _Grab the boy._

It came in a foreign language, but somehow Misty understood anyway. She felt her hand loosen from her scalp and reach out towards her son.

But she couldn't let her have him. She wouldn't.

The hum thundered, vibrated against her inner ear and her head hurt like hell. The nausea rolled up from her stomach into her throat. Her arm trembled from muscle cramps, as it was stuck in between two opposing actions.

 _Grab him!_

" _No_ ", Misty hissed through clenched teeth. She felt frustration and a rage, which wasn't hers, pound in her mind before it started to fade. And as soon as the hum fainted just a fraction, she got to her feet and ran out onto the porch, towards the greenhouse. Away from Cage.

The fresh air hit her face and undid just a bit of the nausea, enough that the urge to turn herself inside out subsided. She stumbled forward on feet that didn't entirely belong to her and fought to capture the sounds of nature instead of the angry roar in her mind. Anything to keep it from taking over.

Halfway there it lessened enough that she could think again. She stopped, kept track of the compelling turning back to the ever present hum in the back of her mind. She waited for the pain to come, because more often than not, pain followed a failed command. That seemed to work just fine over distance. But today her compeller left her with the warning.

It didn't feel like triumph though. It only made Misty more scared, more hopelessly set on the prospect that she would never be herself again. She couldn't fight this voice away with Delia's medication. This was not a broken psyche, it was the black mirror to her own abilities and those had never responded to any manmade remedy.

Misty didn't go back into the house. She saw the shadow of Cordelia stepping into the living room and knew Cage was in good hands. And she couldn't be near him now. Instead, she went to the only one she thought might have a clue.

Zoe had left the key to the lock on a creak in the wood. No use hiding it, when she was usually the only one up here. Misty took it and unlocked the door.

Kyle sat in the middle of the room, dazed eyes focused on the door from the moment she opened it. The guilty joy in his face made her think he had expected Zoe – and why wouldn't he? – but as soon as he realized who his visitor was, the smile turned to a sneer. He started growling and raised his shoulders the same way she would have done if an enemy approached.

"I just wanna talk, Kyle. Okay?"

He growled again, backed away when she took a step. His eyes had narrowed and his face shone with loathing.

"We used to be good friends, Kyle", Misty tried. "You remember that? You only hate me because she does. And that's why I wanna talk to you." If he registered her words, he didn't show it. Misty crouched down to his eye level, then sat on the dusty floor. Kept her hands away, so he wouldn't take offence.

He wrinkled his nose and crawled forward, cautiously so. He kept a good distance, but it got Misty's hopes up. Maybe he could help. Maybe he knew how to process it.

"Kyle, is she in your head too? If she is, you gotta tell me, please…" Her voice grew thick and it stung in her throat but she kept talking. "Please tell me how you deal with it. I can't stand it. I don't know who else to ask, 'cause it's not like Delia and her voices. You know 'bout that, don't you?"

He cocked his head to the side, gave her a long, seemingly thoughtless stare. But Misty believed something was still going on behind his dull exterior.

Then his face twisted, he hissed and lunged forward. Before Misty could get her hands up, he knocked her back into the wall. He whined like scared animal now and so did Misty, as she fought to get him off. She finally found a way through his violently thrashing arms and put a hand to his chest. But nothing happened. For a second she had forgotten that she was compelled not to use her ability. Misty felt the first ounce of panic spreading in her body instead of the nausea she had expected. Her head spun, the hum blazed now and she barely registered the hasty steps on the stairs or a figure appearing, before she heard her:

"Kyle! Get off her!"

Kyle drew back instantly, still growling. He didn't want to let go, even if he obeyed Zoe without hesitation. Misty felt that in the scratches he had made on her arms and the dull pain from her back of her head, which he had slammed into the wall.

Zoe sat down in front of her, her eyes worried when they came into Misty's focus.

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah", she groaned in response and rubbed the back of her head. On the bright side, the hum was momentarily outmatched by headache.

Zoe drew a relieved sigh. "Good. What happened? You know he acts this way with you."

"Yeah I know. Just wanted to talk to him-" She wanted to say more, but then Zoe's arm caught her attention. She hadn't realized she had developed a radar for this, but the second Zoe's sleeves drew away, Misty's eyes caught the long, thin cuts. She knew what they were without second thought and she gave Zoe a sad look. "You too?"

"What- Oh." She looked down at her damaged arm and then away. Exactly like Cordelia would have. "Yeah, that's…"

"I know", Misty said. She didn't know this about Zoe, but the pattern was unmistakable, even if the canvas used to be Cordelia's milky skin instead of Zoe's. Misty felt the poking of the trance, heard the siren's call, begging her to heal, but she could do nothing. She felt weirdly empty.

Zoe gave her an insecure look and said: "Cordelia told me you used to… um, help her?"

Misty nodded solemnly. "I did. But I can't help you now, Zoe. My abilities… She took 'em. Can't use 'em with her in my head. That's why I came up here to talk to Kyle. Maybe he…" She trailed off. Kyle started growling again at the mention of his name, but Zoe shushed him. Her eyes were full of tears, but her face said anger. As if she couldn't decide which emotion to rely on.

"I don't think it's the same for him. He doesn't act like you do anyway."

Misty shrugged. "I know. Figured it was worth a shot."

"Does Cordelia know? About your abilities I mean?"

Misty shook her head. She wanted to tell her, about the abilities, about the urges Marie tried to force on her, but if she was to tell the one important secret, she couldn't add these. She couldn't keep adding little stones to Cordelia's load, just to drop a house on it afterwards.

Zoe stood up. "You have to tell her. We have to stop that… that cruel bitch!"

Misty considered telling her that no one had the resource, because they were all too busy picking pieces of themselves up from the last blow, but it made her feel too guilty. Zoe had lost everything. She was the first to take the blow and now that she was ready to fight, the rest of them were on the ground.

Misty left the attic and went back into the house, when she was sure the hum was back at a bearable level. She needed to make sure Cage was okay. He shouldn't have to see her scared like that, but if she couldn't prevent it, she could at least make sure he knew she was okay now. As okay as she could pretend to be. When he was smiling again she could retreat to safety and think about what Zoe had said. They _should_ fight. But there were so many open wounds in their own house that she had to attend before she could declare war on another. It seemed an impossible job, because most of the wounds were in herself and what used to be the easiest fix was now the hardest.

She came into the house again about the time she knew Cordelia went to bed. Sleeping in the greenhouse wasn't that awful for someone who's used to sleeping in the wild, but sleeping without Cordelia hurt, when she knew the alternative. And it seemed Marie didn't attack in her sleep. Maybe she needed Misty awake to compel her.

Misty came into the room determined to at least tell Cordelia that she couldn't use her ability – she needed to know if something should happen to Cage. She gently pushed the door open and then all thoughts fell from her mind, because the air tasted of Cordelia's tears. It was silent crying, but it didn't fool Misty for a second. She slipped into bed and pulled Cordelia close. Cordelia fitted herself into the embrace and her damp face rested in the hollow of Misty's throat.

"What's wrong, darlin'?" It seemed a silly question to ask at these times, but she did so anyway.

Cordelia sniffled and loosed a hand from the embrace. Misty knew that it was to wipe her tears, even though no one could see them in the dark.

"I miss my mother", she said with a shaking voice. "Mean as she was, I miss her. I feel like I can't hold it together anymore. It's too much."

It ached in Misty's chest, tightened with guilt, but she put it aside and moved to look into Cordelia's eyes. Their eyes had gotten used to the dark and she could see them in front of her, wet and pleading.

"But you're still here", Misty reminded her. "You're clear, they ain't got you in that hole. Don't you see how strong you've become?"

Cordelia didn't answer, but her gaze said everything. Gratitude and love shone through that sadness and none of them needed anything else for now. Misty allowed Cordelia back in her embrace, allowed her to feel weak for tonight. She could be strong tomorrow. And Misty needed her to be, because she wasn't sure _she_ was anymore.

O0O

Zoe loved those few times where the whole family gathered in the living room for just an hour of normalcy. The family was fragmented, now that Fiona was gone, and the mourning hung in the air because of it. Even Spalding eluded the darkness of his silent suffering. Kyle haunted the attic like a ghost, and Marie Laveau haunted Misty like a disease, which spread to Cordelia and even Cage. Still, when they tried to overlook all that, there were happy times like these, when all three of them would sit on the floor and talk and play with Cage's toys. They would invite Zoe and she felt like a part of that family. She clung to it. It wasn't hard to catch all the change in the air, the wavering between the two lovers, once so safely rooted with each other, and the fear. The fear in Misty was the hardest of all, because nothing used to scare her. But in spite of that, she sat with them now, smiling and Zoe clung to that, because she had nothing else to cling to.

"Mama, you're hitting my train!" Cage chided Misty with his childish, cheerful voice. The boy was phenomenal at adapting to the atmosphere. He couldn't possibly not feel the shadow in the room, but he pushed it away with smiles. Just like his parents.

Misty grinned and stopped moving her train forward. "Well my train is bigger than yours, pup, so _you_ better move."

"No, you move!"

"I'm gonna crash you", she said with a sing-song voice and Cage squealed and knocked over his own train, when the two met. Then he looked up at Cordelia, who sat behind him.

"Mommy, mama crashed my train!" He played the role of exasperated victim poorly with that grin and Cordelia couldn't help snickering at his face.

"I have space for you at my end, Cage", Zoe offered. The tracks took up the whole space from the floor length windows to the couch, stretching on for six square feet.

"Hear that, love? How about a trip over by Zoe?"

The boy nodded and started reassembling his crashed train. He placed it on the tracks in the opposite direction and started making his way to Zoe. He didn't notice that Misty had checked out of the conversation. Zoe didn't notice either, until Cordelia stiffened behind Cage, as she realized it herself.

Zoe watched Cordelia watch Misty and then they both watched her as she fought another internal battle. Her hand still gripped the train and it started to tremble.

"Delia, get me outta here."

Cordelia didn't hesitate, but got up and grabbed Misty by the arm. Misty's motions were stiff and robotic almost, but she allowed Cordelia to pull her up standing.

"Mama?" Cage had stopped, turned around and now looked up at them with worry.

"It's okay, baby", Cordelia assured him, even though everyone in the room knew it wasn't. Both women were on their feet now and Cordelia dragged Misty outside with rough determination. She had to be firm, because Misty was halfway resisting, even if her face pleaded Cordelia for help. Zoe sat frozen for a moment as she watched the shapes of the two becoming smaller as they went towards the greenhouse. The shape of Cordelia opened the door and pushed Misty inside.

The echo of a strained scream reached their ears. Cage recognized the voice before Zoe did and started to whimper. The sound made Zoe's muscles jump into action.

"Come on, Cage, let's go upstairs." She grabbed the boy and put him on her hip before he had time to escape her. But he was too shocked to resist. So much for adapting, Zoe thought, but she couldn't blame her, not with the sound of his mother's agony lingering in the air. "It's time for your nap soon, isn't it?" She kept talking to him, hoping she could somehow distract him. To no avail, it seemed, the boy's eyes were fixated on source of the cries, even as she carried him out.

The boy refused to fall asleep. He lay awake with wide-open eyes, called for his mothers once or twice.

"I'll stay here until your mom comes", Zoe promised, thinking it would be Cordelia. Misty was incapable now, even with Cordelia's support. It made Zoe think of Kyle in the attic and how she should be up there comforting him in equal fashion. She once thought they would be just like Cordelia and Misty, the two of them. Now she knew they would never be.

She looked at Cage in his crib again and a sudden, violent sadness struck her.

"Did you know your mama almost died for your mom once?" She asked in a low voice, not sure if she wanted him to hear or not. "That's supposed to be the most romantic thing ever. It is. But look now, both your moms are hearing voices, neither knows how to help the other, Hank is AWOL again and your grandmother is dead. And I'm just complaining because my boyfriend is the murderous zombie in your attic".

The pain of Cage's broken family mixed with her own and the scene she fought so hard to forget flashed in her mind's eye. She remembered blood. And that feeling of devastation in the air, Misty always caught before everyone else. She remembered how the world stopped turning just for a moment, when she found them. Her mom's face had been broken in, with one good, empty eye left to stare at her. She remembered the silence in her mind. A cold contrast to Kyle's frantic screaming. "No mom! No mom! No mom!" But it wasn't just her mom on the floor of the bathroom, like horrid déjà vu. He had broken her dad as well.

She should never have left him home alone.

He helped her bury them in the woods. He did everything she ordered him to and he apologized, even if he didn't understand her loss anymore. He hadn't stopped apologizing since. But it was just words, barely that coming out of his mouth. And he was no voodoo queen; words of his couldn't bring anyone back.

"I don't know if I would die for Kyle", Zoe whispered into her hands, as they rested on the bars of the crib. "Do you think your mama still would?"

The boy looked at her with worrisome eyes, but he didn't say anything. She hadn't expected him to. After a while in silence, Cordelia came in. Zoe turned and left the room before Cordelia could catch her tears. Better she focused on getting Cage to sleep. Sleep was his way of coping with it all, Zoe had realized and so she prayed this wouldn't ruin his nap.

The living room looked oddly deserted now, the game broken up so sudden. Something about it reminded Zoe of how suddenly her own life had been broken up. She sat down in the middle of it, picked her train up and all of a sudden the stream of tears became incontrollable. The room was full of that wrecked atmosphere of home and she had never felt so alone. She couldn't stand it. The abandonment of her old life, the constant fear that the cold trails, the police followed, stopped being cold – she knew Laveau had something to do with the lack of police interference and it only scared her more – and the twisted relief she'd felt when Kyle had come back to her after being sent to die, despite what he had done to her family.

She didn't even hear Cordelia come in. She was just abruptly there, kneeling down in front of Zoe and it made the girl flinch. She looked up with frightened eyes, knowing that there was a slim chance of lying her way out now. Cordelia gave her the saddest look and placed a gentle hand under Zoe's chin when she tried to look away.

"Zoe, please tell me," she pleaded with a tone of a caring mother, which made it so much harder to fight than the scared begging.

"I don't want to burden you more."

Cordelia smiled her sad smile at her. "You're just a child, sweet girl. I worry about you. Better I bear it with you than watching it drag you down like this."

She couldn't hold it in anymore. Not the tears, not the pain, not those heavy memories. She let it out.

O0O

It took Misty a while to recover from Laveau's last attempt at control. Her compelling seemed to come more often these days. More frequent, but less insistent. They were short jabs, followed by needles when Misty fought the voice off. It seemed like feeble attempts at control. But that didn't make it hurt less.

She woke from a groggy sort of slumber some hours after being left in the greenhouse. The pain made her black out sometimes and she was guiltily pleased to find that Cordelia was not with her. As much as she longed for the warmth of her embrace, she was glad her love didn't force herself to suffer through Misty's attacks. It would be just like her to do so. Instead it seemed she had gone for Cage.

The first step was to feel for silence. That was always her first step in these new days of this foreign kind of captivity. When she felt sure the hum was too low for an open connection to her compeller, she dared get up from the floor. She somehow always expected her body to ache from the fit of pain, but it never did. Only her head.

She made her way back to the house. The light had changed. She must have been passed out for a few hours. Cage would be taking his nap now and she would have room to see if everyone was still okay. That was the next part of the routine.

The house was silent. In the living room, the game of trains lay untouched on the floor. Her train was still in its track as if time had been frozen. She felt like that sometimes. This living she did now, it was a bubble of time, frozen out of life. It wasn't really living. But she couldn't make them start a war with Marie over this. The Voodoo Queen had too much of an upper hand. Fighting would only hurt her family more. Misty just needed to learn how to fight her on her own. She was on the right track; Marie's compelling was getting weaker. She could feel it in every frantic attempt. But it would still take a lot of needles before she was free.

Misty went upstairs, hoping she would run into someone soon. This ghostly atmosphere gave her a bad taste in her mouth. When she saw no sign of Zoe, she just figured she had gone to Kyle – he needed calming just as much as the rest of them. When she didn't find Cordelia by Cage's bedside, she went for their bedroom, worry pulsating through her veins. There was change in the air today.

She found Cordelia on the edge of their shared bed, face hidden in her hands. She wasn't crying, but devastation leaked off her like steam. When Misty came in, she slowly unmasked from her hands and looked up. She _had_ been crying, even if she wasn't anymore. Misty's heart sank.

She couldn't talk first, but she asked the matter in the same non-verbal way she had always done as a child. Her face was cautious and wary. Cordelia had plenty of reason to cry, but the light in her eyes was different and that was what made Misty ask.

"Come sit with me", she said.

Misty obeyed, sat down on Cordelia's right side, a little space between them, so she could see her face properly.

"We need to get Kyle out of the house. Zoe just told me everything. Did you know he killed her parents?"

Misty's blood froze. And then the guilt came. She should have known he was capable.

"No", she admitted, reluctant to meet Cordelia's eyes. "God damn. Is she okay?"

Cordelia shook her head. She didn't look okay either. But she had known more than Misty, she had known something was wrong. Misty had been too caught up in her own possession to look over her nose and she felt awful for it. She used to be the one to feel things.

"At least now we know why she has been acting strange", Cordelia said, as if reading her mind. Misty wanted to take her hand, comfort her even if the pain wasn't really hers. But she didn't dare. There was that change in the air and it made her think twice about the gesture. Should these hands even touch Cordelia? After what she had committed with them. She remembered the pulse weakening under her grasp. She couldn't touch Cordelia with these hands.

"I'm so sorry I didn't see, Delia."

Cordelia shook her head as if to wipe away her words. Despite the drying tears and the red eyes, Cordelia didn't look sad anymore. She had determination in her eyes.

She said: "We have to deal with Kyle, but first…" She stopped, sighed. "First we have to deal with us."

Misty's heart sank further. She couldn't look away from Cordelia's eyes. Despite the pounding anxiety she didn't want to. This was too important, she sensed. She said nothing and Cordelia continued:

"We have tried in vain to keep too many secrets from each other in this last year. It has to stop or we won't sort this out. We won't make it."

Misty looked into Cordelia's face, read her expression and understood. This was not an ultimatum. It was a simple request, but one loaded with the knowing that this secret could destroy them. Maybe it was more certain to wreck them than the truth.

The atmosphere felt stripped somehow. Left was only them and the words Misty needed to get out. And there was nothing in between them, nothing to shield Cordelia from what she was about to learn. Misty felt her hands tremble, her throat close up the way she only remembered it doing once before in her life. She was a kid then, but equally afraid to lose everything.

Misty closed her eyes for a second, praying to nothing in particular.

When she looked again, it was with a pleading gaze.

"Please don't hate me", she said. Then she told Cordelia everything.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry to keep you waiting so long! Especially with that mean cliffhanger. I've got a lot to do at the moment with my studies, on top of the writing difficulty, but I'll try to do better. Thanks again for reading, I know I'm not exactly on the fluff road lately, so I really appreciate all of you who allow me to just take these characters wherever they might go. Now enough out of me, let's get to it.**

* * *

Cordelia felt empty again. And stupid. A blind, unobservant naïve excuse for a woman. She felt like she had taken so many shocks over the past few months that nothing should surprise her anymore. Yet this did. Even though she knew on some level that there was a deeper and graver reason for Misty's silence than the fear of losing control, she never pieced it like this. It shocked, it surprised but above everything else, it hurt. So much that every other emotion faded in comparison.

She couldn't breathe. On the surface she was deadly calm, but on the inside she was crumbling, screaming and falling apart all over again. Once again she prayed for the black hole, but maybe Misty had it right; she had grown stronger. The prize of her new strength was that there was nowhere left to hide from her pain.

Misty sat in front of her, wet tracks on both her cheeks and the deepest regret in her eyes. Cordelia could glimpse her in the periphery of her vision, while her gaze focused on the wall a few inches beside Misty. She sat silently, awaiting her sentence. This was what Cordelia loved most about her. She never presumed, even if she did know, she always allowed Cordelia to speak her mind.

"And you remember everything", Cordelia said with a voice foreign even to herself. It trembled less than she would have thought. Her entire exterior felt frozen. "You didn't black out, which means…"

"That she didn't compel me. She only forced me to choose."

"And you couldn't bring her back again, because you… Because she made you… cut…" Cordelia couldn't finish the sentence. She suddenly remembered what Hank had said to her. _It looks like she's been stabbed_. He had it right. And then she had gone to Misty and Misty had told her she didn't deserve to know what she knew. God she wished she had taken the advice and never demanded to know. She looked out the window as Misty answered:

"And even if I hadn't, she's compelled not to use my ability. Can't heal no one so long as she's in my head."

Cordelia let out an exasperated breath. She didn't know how else to respond. Now there certainly was no more room for surprise or to in any way process that Misty couldn't even protect them the way she used to. It didn't matter. Her abilities were never her true value. It was her mind, her person, the purity of her heart. And that purity was tainted now. Her mind captured by someone else. Her person not her own.

"You killed my mother", Cordelia said, as if she hadn't heard anything Misty had said since that first sentence. She still couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Yes. To protect Cage. You know it was to protect him."

She knew that. Of course. The hate Misty felt towards Fiona had never been strong enough for such an act. But Cordelia still couldn't look at her. She couldn't believe it. It made sense in its own twisted way, but she didn't _want_ to believe it.

"I have… I need some fresh air." She got up from the bed and went for the door.

"Cordelia please", Misty begged with a broken voice. But Cordelia didn't stop. The room had started to crowd with shadows and she needed to get away. Needed to clear her head. She left the room and fled down the hall. Behind her, she heard Misty sobbing.

She found Zoe and told her to watch Cage, before she left the house. The poor girl was in the middle of her own crisis and Cordelia felt horrible for leaning on her now, but Zoe assured her she didn't mind. She liked the distraction. And thankfully she didn't ask any questions, only looked at Cordelia with shocked eyes. Her face must have said everything. Cordelia was grateful for the girl; Spalding was much too erratic after learning Fiona's death, which made Zoe one of the two people Cordelia had left to trust her son with. Today she had only her.

With nowhere to go, Cordelia wandered about the city. This was never a habit of hers, especially not without the company of Cage in his stroller and she felt awkward. Had she inherited her departed mother's weakness for alcohol she would have visited a bar. Alas she had not, but she was tempted even so.

It was in times like these she remembered how friendless she truly was. The few she might have had had scattered over the course of her breakdown or moved away since for other reasons. Misty was her confidante, her everything, now lost, and while her mother had very slowly become something of trustworthy figure, Cordelia could not talk to the dead. Neither could she burden Zoe, the poor girl, because she had enough worries on her own. And her counting ended there.

All the while the shadows followed her, the whispers taunted her and a pulse of agony resided in her chest. None of these forces ever took over; they only kept her sharper now, more apt to notice the chaos in her soul, as the outside world faded away.

She went past the bar Misty used to work at. It only passed her in the periphery, on the other side of the street, but it drew her attention and the sight of it earned her another stab of pain. She rushed past it, fighting to keep level with the flow of emotions and the inner berating she received for acting as childish as she did. She should be home with her son. He would soothe her, he always did. But she couldn't face Misty, not now.

Instead she went into the next bar she happened upon and made herself sit down in there. The entire world around her had turned into a queer kind of haze full of shadows and distorted sounds. She couldn't make sense of any of it. Colors had gone out, mixed together into a smear that could barely be put to words. She felt as though she was wandering through a dream, a lucid dream yet still out of control. She vaguely heard someone ask her if she needed anything, but she couldn't locate the voice. She wasn't even sure it was a real voice, though it crawled into her ear instead of spawning inside her head.

She must have sat there for hours before sounds started to appear normal again and the strange shadows crept back into the corners enough for her to make out the shape of the bartender hovering above her. Upon first glance he appeared to be floating, but now she could see his feet securely fastened on the floor.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?"

"I-I'm sorry, did you say something?" Cordelia thought her own voice sounded strange and foreign as well. She tried to focus on his face.

"I asked if you were okay. You've been sittin' here for an hour, starin' into space. Can I call someone for you?"

"Oh…" Cordelia said, still fighting to put sounds and light together in a picture that made sense. She asked the man to repeat his words and then slowly spelled out a number for him to call. He left her and came back with a glass of water, which he placed in front of her. Cordelia thought the colors looked odd. Sort of floating out of the glass instead of keeping inside it. The bartender left her again.

Cordelia sat in her slowly lifting haze, trying to make sense of sounds, when a hand touched her shoulder and a familiar scent reached her senses.

"Cordelia? Are you okay?"

She looked up to find Hank looking at her with deep-rooted concern. His worry went beyond that of the bartender, she could hear, and she figured it must be because he knew just what forces she was likely battling now, as opposed to the friendly stranger. Which was why his was the name and number that appeared to her in her need.

"I don't think so", she said. When she came in here, she remembered being full of despair and hurt, blinded by it really, but now she couldn't tell what she was feeling. She was trying to escape, she thought, but the shadows weren't quite thick enough and Hank's entering brought some of reality back. With it, the hurt.

"I got this", she heard Hank tell the bartender. Then he leaned into her again. "I have a rented car outside, let me take you home."

"I can't go home." The admission was said as much to herself as it was to Hank.

"Why? What happened?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Not here."

"Okay", Hank said, but motioned to get her to stand up anyway. "Then come to my place."

Cordelia looked at him for a moment. She was clearer now and an alarm bell was ringing at a distance. "This is not an invitation for you to-"

"I know", he said quickly. "I know."

"Good." She got to her feet then and allowed him to steer her outside into the car. The world around her still felt odd and slightly out of beat, and she was grateful for his arm of support.

The car ride back to his hotel room was a blur. The only thing to enter her mind was the notion that she kept putting more distance between herself and home. And the more distance the harder to get back. She would have to return tonight, for Cage and Misty both, for Zoe even, but it felt impossible at this moment. This moment, this state of mind she had been in ever since leaving. It felt like one single, never-ending second, one thought she couldn't finish and so she was stuck in its middle. It was a moment of impossibility. It was different this time, she was clearer despite knowing that she had left the borders of reality for a while back at the bar.

Hank steered her through the lobby and to the elevator and by the time she reached his door, colors and sounds appeared normal again.

It felt wrong being back in Hank's hotel room. There were too many wounds carved into the tapestry of the walls here, too many whispers calling her a fool for expecting comfort in such a place. Did she deserve that after what she had committed here?

Do any of you really deserve to be saved?

That made her stop. The whispers had never talked so directly about Misty before. It made her think thoughts she'd rather not touch.

"Now will you please tell me what has happened?"

Cordelia walked a little around in the room, seated herself on the chair, where she had sat once or twice before and tried to wrap her brain around the whole story. That was when the air started to clump in her throat and the tears finally pressed on. She wanted to tell the story from the beginning, but instead the cry of a little child came out: "Misty killed my mother."

Then her voice broke and the tears spilled free. The rest came out in pieces. Hank stepped close and embraced her the best he could in her sitting position. It was awkward, but she welcomed his warmth even so.

When her breathing finally calmed, she sniffled once and pushed him out at arm's length. "You were right it seems. About Fiona being… About what you saw."

Hank crouched down in front of her, rested a hand on her knee. He shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus, Cordelia. I wish I wasn't."

"So you see why I can't go home? I don't know how to go on from this." The tears pressed on again, but she did nothing to stop them. It all felt so useless now. Hank looked up at her and something changed in his face. He got up and drew the other chair close.

"Don't say that. I know you two, as much as I wish I didn't sometimes. You can get through anything, and you won't feel better alone."

Cordelia sat quiet and stunned for a minute. She wanted to ask him why he was defending her all of a sudden – and Misty of all people – but a much darker notion overshadowed her question.

"I don't know if simple love is enough to get through this." It weighed down on her heart to say it. She used to doubt Misty loved her enough and while she could never again question Misty's devotion to her, the new doubt wore some of the same colors.

But Hank wouldn't have it. "There is nothing simple about your love", he said with incredulity. "Come on, Cordelia. You've been in love with her your entire life. Even when we were together and you hadn't seen her in ten years, you still missed her like I used to miss my booze. And I tell you, if _that_ wasn't what brought her back from the dead… How will this get any better without her?"

There it was again, Cordelia thought. The knowledge that she couldn't possibly get by on her own. She needed Misty and in this moment she hated that she did. But reluctance or even hate didn't change the fact at hand.

"I'm not saying that what she did was right", Hank said, his tone suggesting that his speech was at an end. "I'm saying I don't think she saw a way around it, that could protect you and Cage."

"I know. I…" There was still so much of it she didn't understand. This power Laveau had over Misty for one, how it had taken all the ferocity out of the girl Cordelia used to know. If they would face the same kind of emotional cleft, if Cordelia hadn't cheated first. But none of these questions were something she meant to burden Hank with. It would not be fair. "I know", she ended up repeating. She looked up at him, into his worried face. "Thank you for taking care of me. I don't know what came over me tonight. I'm glad I can still count on you despite everything that has happened these past months."

"Yeah… I should probably have stayed out of it, but when a guy calls me up like that- was it a black hole?"

Cordelia shook her head. "No, it was something else. Something vaguer I suppose. But thank you again."

Hank nodded, then sat quietly for a moment. Cordelia thought about what he had just told her. And how she owed it to him to at least make an effort, even if she didn't know how to be in the same room with Misty tonight.

When she motioned to leave, Hank's head snapped up. He looked thoughtful and Cordelia haltered, offering him room to speak.

"Can I ask you something?" He said. His voice had changed completely. The security that was in him just moments before, when he urged to go get home and fix her life, had vanished completely.

"Of course."

"Was it ever real between us?"

Cordelia hadn't expected this. His gaze sought hers, sought beyond her, begging in a way. Cordelia found it odd that he could change so abruptly. How able he was in speaking his insecurities. It was something he had struggled with when they met, although perhaps not as much as she. Cordelia suddenly found herself remembering the day he came to visit her here in New Orleans, after her first mental breakdown when her auntie Myrtle had died. He had nothing with him, nothing but a few dollars and the clothes he had on, because he had left as soon as Fiona had called him, not bothering to even pack. Cordelia had wanted him there, because he was her tether to reality then, the love she had chosen.

Cordelia nodded and smiled at the older, much wiser version of Hank in front of her. "Yes, it was. I promise you it was."

He sighed – with relief she thought – and sat up. Then he threw her a wry smile.

"It's going to take a lot to stop fighting for you."

Cordelia couldn't help smiling, but it quickly turned sad. She wished he would. Only then would she stop causing him pain.

"I'm sorry it happened like this", she told him. She reached out and gave his hand a brief squeeze. "I have never wanted to hurt you. I should have handled everything differently."

Hank gave a squeeze back and shrugged, in the way he used to.

"You're human. Shit happens."

"You _are_ different." He looked up to meet her gaze and they sat like that for a while. Hank shrugged again, giving her the right of it. Then he got up and gestured towards the door.

He drove her home in silence and only offered a reassuring smile, before Cordelia got out and made her way up the isle alone. The sense of calm that Hank had managed to create for her rapidly dissipated into the cool night air. She dreaded the other side of that door in a way she never had before. She felt as though the shadows were reattaching themselves to her heart and the inside of her skull. They snapped at her feet again. She stopped for a minute, just inches from the door and waited for the shadows to take her, but they never fully consumed her. They only clouded her brain, trapped her in this wicked feeling of loss. Just what the loss was she didn't know yet, but she felt it all the same.

Then she opened the door.

She hadn't heard any steps approaching, so Misty must have sat there on the floor of the hall even before Hank pulled up. Maybe she had been sitting there ever since Cordelia left. It would be just like her to do so. Misty looked straight at her and their eyes locked instantly. Cordelia felt all the air leave her lungs and she diverted her gaze.

"Cage?" Cordelia asked, turning around as she removed her coat. She suddenly found herself fighting for control over her own voice again. Just seeing Misty's face, red swollen eyes and curved mouth, brought the hurt back with such force it made her head spin.

"Asleep. He was askin' for you." Her voice was rough and raw from crying.

"I'm sorry I left like that. I couldn't…"

"It's okay. You needed space." Misty got up from the floor. Cordelia could hear the floor boards whine just a little under her light steps, as she moved closer. Cordelia stayed by the coats, studied the black fabric without really seeing it, while the sound of Misty consumed her ears. She didn't say a word, but her presence wasn't hard to read. She stood still beside Cordelia, awaiting her verdict again. Cordelia struggled for words.

"I know you didn't murder my mother in cold blood. I understand why you did it, even if the entire circumstances is still a mystery to me."

Misty sighed, tugged gently at Cordelia's shirt, but Cordelia didn't move.

"Can you still love me?" Misty asked her instead. It felt like the air turned to razors, cutting the inside of her throat the way a cold winter wind back in Boston used to. Only there was no chill in here. Tears pressed on, wetted her eyes, itched in her palate.

"Of course I still love you."

"But you can't look at me."

She wanted to break. She wanted to, but she knew that the time for breaking down was past her. Wishing for another kind of hurt wouldn't save her from this one. All she needed in this moment was to look at her son's sleeping face and find a scrap of peace there.

"I'm sorry", she said and went for the stairs.

O0O

Hank had waited to start the car until Cordelia had stepped inside. Then he had gone driving towards home, but he never pulled up at the hotel. Instead he drove around town, wasting gas money, thinking about the past few hours. He had surprised himself, being so calm about Cordelia and her new crisis. He could even swallow the fact that it was Misty who had Fiona's blood on her hands. In truth she was about the only one who could have done it. Even Laveau never touched his mother-in-law herself. Hank always knew Misty had that kind of violence in her, even if she never used it.

He was calm because he had to play his part. He found himself in a debt now that he could never be free of. Misty might have steered the blade and Marie Laveau might have directed her hand, but he… He was the first piece. Hank had given her the plan, the map to the scene of the crime. He had been lying to Cordelia about his knowledge and his part ever since the beginning of it. And that would be the last piece to send Cordelia tumbling into a black hole.

The thing was, when he was alone the guilt rarely popped through the paper filter, but whenever he looked into Cordelia's face, it would strike him like a sledgehammer. Hank had learned the worst way that the yearning for a family with Cordelia wasn't the only thing to slip through the filter. The raging guilt of what he had done to her blazed through like nothing else.

 _No,_ he thought. _She would have found Misty without my help._ But no matter how much he kept telling himself this, the guilt still rode him like a demon on his back.

And it drove him back to the front step of Marie Laveau's house. He didn't have anything new to add, nothing but his own pain to offer for an argument, but if he didn't do something to stop the war he wasn't worth the breaths Misty had given him back.

He went to the door while desperately trying to form a plan. He could feel the unease prickling under his skin already at the thought of facing her again. This was nothing compared to facing Fiona back in his married days. And even Fiona had a weak spot. This terrifying women had to have one too.

Once she opened the door and stared into Hank's face with cold eyes, he wasn't quite so sure.

"Oh. It's you again."

"Yeah it's me again. I want you to stop. You have gotten your revenge, now leave my family alone!" His sudden agitation surprised even himself and he kept going before he lost courage. "It was Fiona you wanted and you got her. Now leave Cordelia and Misty alone, they've suffered enough!"

Laveau looked at him for a moment or two, perhaps waiting to see if there was more air in the balloon. Then she asked: "You done?"

"If you do as I ask I am."

Laveau sighed, stepped back and slammed the door in his face.

It took Hank a few moments to absorb it, and he still stood there debating if this really was all the heroism he had in him, when a blood-curdling scream ripped through the halls behind the closed door. It sounded like a man's voice, but so shrill with fear that he couldn't tell for sure. The sound of running steps thundered through on the inside followed and then there was a wheezing kind of cry. It must be just on the other side of the door.

Hank debated leaving, thought he probably should have, but a newfound heroism urged him forward. He gave hell in Laveau's terror and pushed through the door.

He had expected chaos on the inside, but the hallway was deserted. Muffled groans came from a room down to the right and he thought he heard that peculiar wheezing as well. Carefully, he treaded down the hall. A small part of him wanted Laveau to have been the one screaming, but he didn't really believe it. There was mumbling down the hall now and just seconds before he came into view Hank realized it was Laveau's voice, singing.

Then he stood in the doorway of the small room with all the peculiar noise. At the far end corner, a young man sat, pushing himself up against the wall and clutching a bloodied piece of cloth to his left shoulder. His face was wet with tears and his eyes full of fear. He didn't look at Hank, but at something happening to the left of him. Hank turned his head to Laveau crouching down in front of something that Hank at first couldn't make out the shape of. It was too grotesque to be what he thought it was.

But as it turned its head Hank recognized the features of a young, malformed child.

The rumors from his countless trips to bars all agreed on one thing: Marie Laveau's child had died. Some said it had filled her heart with lust for blood, some said it had just made her mad. None of them said that child was still alive.

Hank wasn't fooled though. He had intimate knowledge of the spectrum between life and death and this kid was more like him than a normal living child. He would have known if Misty had brought him back, so that left only one.

Marie Laveau herself didn't notice him enter, but seemed to be in the process of calming the child. It had blood smeared all over it's face and it didn't take Hank long to connect it to the bleeding man in the corner. Laveau had a hand on her undead son's shoulder and when she touched him his eyes fluttered with sedation. It made Hank think of Misty, despite the fact that they were opposites in every other aspects than their unearthly powers.

"Marie." It was the man in the corner who spoke and Laveau's eyes darted up from the child to him and then in the direction he nodded. Her eyes narrowed on Hank.

"You ain't got no regard for your own safety, do you?" Hank had lost his words and instead continued to stare from the Voodoo Queen to the ravenous remains of her son and back. Laveau's annoyance grew. "Why don't you leave this alone, while you still can? I thought you wanted that homewrecker witch outta the picture?"

He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. What he wanted was for Misty to ease back into the role of a childhood friend, Cordelia's best friend, and let him have his wife. But he had long since realized no such role had ever truly existed. And this was too high a price. If Fiona's murder wasn't proof enough that he had made allegiance with the wrong witch, this definitely was.

"Your kid…"

"Don't you talk about my kid, Foxx!" She rose to her feet and as soon as her hand left the little boy, the sedated look vanished from his eyes and he hissed at Hank. "Don't you even look at him! I know what you're thinkin'!"

Hank tried to snap out of it, but the child had turned and started to limp towards him on his horribly stunted arms and legs, hissing all the while hissing. Hank couldn't take his eyes of it.

"If you think your miserable existence can change anythin' now, you're dumber than you look", Laveau snarled at him.

The kid snapped his remaining teeth at him and Hank uttered a "fuck", of shocked surprise.

"Now for the last time GET OUT!" Just as Laveau screamed the words, the child lunged at him with a speed he hadn't thought possible, screaming as he jumped.

The impact of the kid blew the air from Hank's lungs and he felt teeth dig into the side of his stomach. He yelled out in pain and terror and stumbled backwards while trying to push him off, but Damian Laveau was latched onto him like a rabid koala bear. His remaining arm and leg had strength enough for double the limbs and his teeth alone felt enough to hold him up. Hank smacked into the back wall beside the doorframe and the hit sent jabs of pain through his body. He looked down to find blood pulsating from the hole the undead child had gnawed in his side. He barely sensed the rest of the crowd, had only thought to fight off this one enemy. Somehow he had expected not to feel pain in his new state, but it turned out to be yet another myth of his second life. He had only enough distance to fight off the panic long enough to shove the kid from his body and bolt out the door before he got caught again.

He ran out into the hall and towards the front door. The wheezing screams followed him, along with the uneven rhythm of child stumps galloping over the floor. He felt a claw at his heel and while this wasn't enough to hurt, it brought another wave of terror. Hank yelled, ran into the door and fumbled for the handle.

"Damian!" Laveau's voice cut through and the kid halted. Hank didn't wait to see what it planned to do next, but swung the door open and ran towards his car. The last he heard from the house was Laveau yelling. "Don't come near me again or you know where I let him loose next!"

He threw himself into the front seat of his car and was on his way before his mind could take in the full experience. Black spots had started to appear in his field of vision and his stomach cramped. He wondered briefly what kind of cruel irony it would be to die behind wheel a second time and then hit the speeder, heading for the nearest hospital.

He burst into the emergency room just moments before the black spots overtook his view and he collapsed.

O0O

Marie tended to Chinwee the best she could. Then went back to Damian to calm him down again. She had locked him back in the room, because whenever she left him, the rage would return to his little body. He was only ever calm with her; everyone else was a threat to him. The slightest show of fear would tip him off but Marie had no fear for her child. Only heartbreak. And she had the abilities that kept him calm. Chinwee had none of this.

She went back and forth between her two boys all evening, caring for them as well as she could. Sometimes she took a small break in between rooms to feel for the witch. She had difficulty reaching her now. It wasn't the distance, it was the witch' stubborn mind always fighting her off. No one had ever resisted like this before. She would need the last of the dust in her jar to pull Misty under again, if she needed her. And she might.

Chinwee was asleep now and Marie went back to Damian's room. She had put toys in here, but none of his old things interested him anymore. Yet there was still a boy in him, he still wanted to play. He had been playing with Chinwee when Hank Foxx showed up, but as soon as Marie left the room, the calm went out of Damian like air from a punched stomach and the playfulness went with it. The laughing chase became a screeching attack.

She could never leave him alone. But she wasn't his playmate either. She was his mama. He needed more people in his little life, someone who wasn't afraid of the mystery of him, someone used to the extraterrestrial.

Someone like Cage Goode.

That little boy had been around the unearthly his whole life. He had not been afraid of her either, not if his mama hadn't looked so scared. He would not set Damian off the way normal mortals did. Marie remembered the way the boy fought to get to his mama the day in the shack. He must have felt the vibes, known that his mother could be dangerous to him. Children understood these things better than adults. Yet he did not hesitate to run to her. If she could teach him to love her son, have them form a friendship, maybe there was hope that Damian would grow to be human again. If he would ever grow. Marie didn't know. But Chinwee had told her of the way Zoe Benson taught her beau to be human again. The same could be done for Damian. She only needed the boy. He would be the perfect teacher.

Marie shook her head and tried to push the thought away. She didn't want to go near that family again. Not ever. The witch herself was poison to her son, Fiona's daughter a constant reminder of years of misery and now this aching hole of dissatisfaction. The ex-husband was a downright pain. She had scared Misty from coming near this area again and that was the most important. Marie still had power enough to keep her away. She needed them out of her life.

But as she listened to the shallow breaths of hurt and unease coming from her son's room she realized that what she needed was an actual life. Not this in between she was living. It occurred to her that some part of her might have died with her son in the swamp that day. Neither of them were truly alive and this dark side of existence was not real. She needed something to light the way, lead them back to living, both of them.

Again, she felt the weight of the little blonde boy on her lap, the feel of his sleeping body against her torso. He was the light. She needed him. And if she could use her powers just this once to sever the boy from his old life and bring him to hers, that was the last she ever needed to do as Voodoo Queen.

The thought was so tempting, the urge so powerful it made her shiver. Then she thought of the mother who would lose what she lost and she fought to contain herself. One slip of control and she would go straight to her basement for the last of that dust.

She tried to push the thought away. Instead of going to the basement, she went back to Chinwee's room to change his dressing.


	20. Chapter 20

Misty had gone back to living in the greenhouse to give Cordelia space. She hadn't asked to sleep next to her since she told her the truth two days ago. A part of her had thought to just go back to the swamp, but a kind of nausea, which had little to do with Marie Laveau, turned her stomach whenever she considered it. She had been out there once to check on Nick, but that was all she could endure of the place. It was too tainted with death now. It made Misty feel like she had no home anymore. And the lack of security made her defense against Laveau's controlling presence weaken.

Outside the doors of the greenhouse, she heard the birds of spring singing, knowing nothing of the vast darkness residing on the premise. If she must admit it, the darkness was hard to spot from the outside on a day like this. When she peeked out through the double doors, she saw Cordelia, Cage and Zoe playing in the yard. She could hear their voices too, when she fought through the hum. It was mostly Zoe and Cage playing and Cordelia watching, but she looked at peace just now.

Misty couldn't keep away for long. She didn't try very hard either; hiding never suited her and she had gone against herself in doing so too much lately. She gently pushed the door open and came out into the yard.

Cordelia and Cage saw her at once, but their reactions could not have been more diverse. Cordelia tensed up and the look of heartbreak came over her face again, as it had every time they looked at each other lately. She tried to look away and the peace had left her so thoroughly you'd think it'd never been there. Cage, on the other hand, smiled wide and came flying towards her.

"Mama!" He waved a small strand of grass in the air and she bent down to meet him.

"Hey pup, what you got there?"

"Can you make the grass sing, mama? I can't do it." He put the straw to his mouth with clumsy little hands and blew at it, but only spit came out then the straw was too soaked to make any noise.

"You gotta hold it like this." Misty sat down on the lawn, pulled out a new strand and put it between her thumbs. She showed him and then put it to her mouth. When she blew, a crude little melody floated out. It was something she had done a lot as a kid in the swamp and though she had lost most of her flair for it now, she could still produce some sounds. Cage laughed and clapped his hands.

Out the periphery of her eye, she saw Cordelia get up and head for the house. It tightened in Misty's chest to acknowledge it, but suddenly anger took its place.

She turned to her son. "You try now. I gotta talk to mom, okay? You show Zoe how." He nodded and she had a feeling he understood more than he should. He walked back to Zoe and Misty went after Cordelia.

She reached her just as she entered the living room and the shade of the house engulfed her.

"We gotta talk 'bout this!" She hadn't meant to shout, but the anger enhanced her voice without her consent. She was too caught up in it to notice that she had temporarily broken Laveau's demand of never speaking unless spoken to. She was so nauseous from the silent fight with Cordelia that the notch up went completely unnoticed as well.

"I can't", Cordelia said and kept walking.

Misty growled with frustration, then sped up and cut Cordelia off on her way to the kitchen.

"I _need_ to. This silence ain't doing anyone no good!"

Cordelia's eyes were blank with water, but hard and unyielding. Her whole body was closed off. She had stopped now, but in her mind, she had left the room, Misty knew.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say anythin'! Tell me 'bout your day, tell me what is going on in your head, or tell me you lied before, tell me you hate me!"

"You wouldn't believe that if I did." Her voice was calm and even and the watery quality of vulnerability had gone out of her eyes again.

"I might", Misty admitted. "You're slippin' away from me like this. Please just tell me what you're thinkin'. I don't know anymore and it _kills_ me."

Cordelia sighed, looked away for a moment as if she needed strength just to keep eye contact. Then she folded her arms and looked back.

"All I know is that you were under her control in one way or another. That's all I can figure out. And I know you still are. Yet you refuse to fight your way out of it. That's not the you I know, you didn't use to hide like this. You don't fight her. That's what I can't forgive, because then you will have killed my mother for nothing!" Her eyes flashed with the last words and then she pushed to get past, but her words had spawned a desperate anger in Misty and it made her grab Cordelia's arm before she could escape. She whirled her around and brought them face to face again.

"I am fightin'! Don't you say I'm not. But if I take the fight to her she's gonna drag you and Cage into it again. She's gonna hurt you! So I'm fightin' on my own!"

Cordelia yanked her arm free. She said: "Yes you've made that clear." And then she spun on her heel and went to the kitchen. Misty didn't stop her when she went back out. She kept away for the rest of the day. She felt caged up in the greenhouse today, even with her Stevie, so she sat outside in the yard for the rest of the day. Zoe had brought her something to eat, when she didn't come in for dinner. The young girl handed her a plate.

"Cordelia says you should eat something… Do you want to talk?"

Misty took a bite and studied the pallor of Zoe's face. She looked too much like darkness, the way Cordelia used to.

"Why didn't you tell me what Kyle did, Zoe?"

The girl turned whiter. Then she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, I didn't really want to burden anyone. You guys got so much going on."

"You shoudda still told me."

She didn't respond to that. Instead she asked: "Are you guys going to be okay?"

Misty sighed deep. She didn't want to talk about her loss either. "I don't know."

"You should talk to her. She's really struggling today." Misty didn't answer and Zoe left for the attic.

When she was done eating, she decided to bring the plate back to the house instead of stashing it inside the greenhouse as other nights. She needed to check if Cordelia was truly getting lost. She might have lost her place forever, but it didn't mean she couldn't keep Cordelia from giving in to madness.

When she came in, she felt the air at once. She rushed to the kitchen, but stopped at the doorframe and watched the scene unfold. Cordelia stood by the sink, gripping the edge of the table, fighting. Zoe was right; she was fighting today, tipping towards the edge. The reason Misty had stopped was that Cage had seen it too and he was climbing down his own chair with a focused look in his eyes. It reminded Misty of what she thought she looked like in a trance. The little boy walked to his mom, little hand gripping and tugging at her skirt, while looking up at her. It took some insistence before Cordelia noticed and then her hand slowly released the table edge and felt for his. When they connected, he guided her down to the floor. The look in Cordelia's eyes was not yet the familiar empty, but still floating enough that she didn't see Misty. She sat down and Cage reached for her face, stroked the side of her face with both hands, running little fingers over her temples. He knew that was the spot.

Little by little Cordelia's gaze became focused and though she could barely keep the tears contained, she smiled at him.

"Okay mommy?" Cage asked and she nodded, while stroking his soft silver blonde hair and looking at him like he was a miracle so glorious he might put angels to shame. Misty knew Cage had done her job then.

Everyone was always protecting her, Misty mused. Even her three year old son. Only Cordelia didn't see that. She was always led to believe the whole world meant to cause her pain, but in reality few were as loved.

Misty gave her space, because she knew that for once those words were true. She knew she was Cordelia's world and right now she was causing her pain. But if Cage could be her sole world instead, perhaps she would heal faster.

Misty waited until Cage was asleep then sought Cordelia out. She had settled into the living room with Zoe, each of them reading a book. Misty used to watch Cordelia read for hours, or lie with her head on Cordelia's lap, while she read aloud. Misty had never been much of a reader, but a book channeled through Cordelia's voice was the most mesmerizing way to experience a story.

Zoe saw her first and they exchanged a look. With Misty lacking her ability to speak, Zoe had advanced at reading Misty's non-verbal communication. Zoe nodded and folded her book. She got up then and gave them the room. She gave Misty an encouraging smile in the passing.

Cordelia noticed the sudden shift and looked up. The hurt crept into her gaze again and it made Misty want to back away and not say the things she was about to say, but she knew she had to. For everyone's sake. She moved to the couch and urged Cordelia to let her talk.

Cordelia understood. She closed her own book, put it aside and looked up at Misty. "Ask me."

Misty felt the release of the spell as an almost physical unchaining of her tongue and sat down.

"Do you want me here?"

Cordelia looked shocked for a moment, so much that the bafflement overtook the look of sadness. "Pardon?"

"You heard me. This ain't workin'. It ain't good for us or for Cage. Did you truly mean it when I asked you-"

"My love for you hasn't changed and I don't think it ever will", Cordelia said, before Misty could finish her sentence. She refrained from touch, but her words where warm like the way she used to stroke Misty's cheeks. "I didn't lie. But if I'm being honest, I don't know to process this. I don't mean to make you so unhappy either, I just don't know how to talk to you about this and it frightens me. I'm frightened for us." Cordelia was rarely this brutally honest and it made Misty feel all the more like she was staring off the edge of a cliff. Out there was only unknown.

She couldn't stand the isolation. She reached out and took Cordelia's hand. The other flinched, but she didn't withdraw.

"My happiness is you being happy", Misty said. She squeezed the hand a bit and then said: "If having me close is only hurtin' you, I want you to let me go."

When she looked up again, Cordelia's eyes were full of tears. "Is that what _you_ want?"

Misty answered without a moment's hesitation: "I wanna be with you. But not like this. I wanna protect you and keep you safe and love you and I wanna know that you want me to. That's all I've wanted since the day I met you." The grown wild child smiled to herself, despite the grave atmosphere. "You were just that lost kid and you looked at me with those big, scared eyes and I just knew. Never doubted it since."

"How can you love me this much, Misty? After everything? I betrayed your trust. I'm a worthless, wretched shade of a person, just like my mother was." Her voice was trembling, breaking at the edges.

Misty shook her head and held Cordelia's gaze now that she finally allowed it. "You're not. Not to me. Not to Cage. Not to anyone that matters."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't understand."

Misty cocked her head to the side, caught Cordelia's gaze again. "Darlin', don't you know by now?"

Cordelia dropped their hands with exasperation. "But saying you don't know how to not love me makes it sound like enslavement now."

"It ain't. Not if I do it willin'ly. I don't wanna know how to stop. No matter what you decide to do with this."

Cordelia looked at her, shocked again in a way that made Misty think she only now realized what Misty was really saying.

She started shaking her head. "No…"

"It's up to you."

Misty wasn't sure what she had expected Cordelia to do. Perhaps leave the room to think, as had been her strategy for the past week. Instead she pulled Misty close and locked her arms around her neck. Misty returned the hug, rested her chin on Cordelia's shoulder and tried to memorize the smell of her hair. She could feel a damp, shaky breath on her neck and she tried to freeze that in time too.

"I don't quite know what to think of this, how to be around you", she heard Cordelia say with that fragile, quivering voice of hers. "But don't know how to be apart from you either".

"I don't know if those two can be at the same time. Which one do you think it is?" She felt Cordelia's hands fist on her dress and it made her fear the worst. She held on as though she was collecting warmth for the next decade.

"I don't know", Cordelia said. "For now I just want to hold you. Is that okay?"

Despite herself, Misty smiled. "Always, Delia."

O0O

Zoe went to Kyle to give Misty and Cordelia peace to talk. And if the courtesy hadn't driven her away, the urge to escape the atmosphere would have. Zoe used to think the air was lighter than helium around those two, but lately it felt so heavy with heartbreak that she couldn't breathe around them. Misty had told her what had happened, had not even tried to hide the fact that she had killed Fiona – not now that Cordelia knew anyway – but Zoe couldn't imagine a world where Misty would have done such a gruesome thing by her own will. It was impossible.

Of course she said nothing, because Cordelia had kindly let her live in their house, kept from asking her all the agonizing questions of her dead family and on top of that allowed Kyle to stay in the attic, which was nothing short of miraculous.

She sat with Kyle now, felt him run his clumsy fingers through her hair. He liked her hair and she liked that he paid so much attention to it, because it was something he would have done before as well. It made him feel more like Kyle. Most of the time she had a hard time breathing right around him too.

What struck her most these days was the madness of it all. How abruptly all of their lives had gone from something out of a fairy tale to this wretched kind survival and how unfair all of it was. She felt a cold kind of anger thinking about it. Her head was clear and focused, which was why the anger felt cold instead of blazing hot. She was no longer on the constant verge of screaming, as she had been earlier, when it all collapsed. Rather, it felt like she was standing in the ruins of her life, calmly watching the smoke rise from the seething ashes and knowing that she had had enough. The notion took hold of her, fumed within her until she found herself taking Kyle by the hand and walking to the other end of town.

She didn't even have to knock; she could see she was expected. She didn't know if Marie Laveau could feel her creature coming closer, but Kyle certainly could feel her. He had gone willingly, but now as they neared the house he pulled at her hand to get away. It wasn't forceful – he had learned to control his strength with her – but enough to understand his deep reluctance. And whatever it was that still bound Kyle and Laveau together, she had felt him coming and she stood at the door.

And Zoe wasted no time. The quivering girl that had come running to Laveau for help some lifetimes ago was long gone. This new girl in Zoe's body dragged Kyle up in front of his animator and stared the Voodoo Queen right in the eye.

"Look at him!" She demanded.

Laveau gave her a raised eyebrow, but Zoe thought she spotted unease behind the cool exterior. "I see him, what about him, girl?"

" _Look at him_! Does this look like a living person to you?" Kyle looked down at Zoe, tried to calm her with a gentle but clumsy touch of his hand, but she ignored him. Laveau's gaze had gone cold.

"He's breathin', ain't he? That's more than he was when you begged me to save him."

"That's just it", Zoe said. "Breathing doesn't make someone living, I've seen that too many times now. I pleaded you to bring him back to me, but you only brought half and now everyone is suffering. You ruined everything. Just for the sake of revenge for a war I'm not a part of." The cold fury in Zoe heated just enough to bring a force to her words, but not enough to stir the other woman's cold façade. She took a step towards Zoe, and even though Zoe felt the momentary fear creep through and mix with her anger, she held her ground. A bit of fright didn't change the fact that she had very little left to lose and that gave her courage.

She thought Laveau saw that. The woman didn't come any closer, but looked at Kyle instead. He had started to tremble and when they locked gazes he gave a small whimper and tugged at Zoe's hand.

Marie Laveau looked back to her. "He's better than he could be, trust me. Don't blame me for your misperception of life, child. You wanted him back, but you neglected to say in what state."

For once the fury bobbled and boiled, turned white-hot and Zoe grit her teeth.

"I will bury you for this."

Laveau gave her a long look. "I'm not scared of you, girl. Go home", then she turned and walked back into the house. Zoe thought she heard a screeching cry in there just before the door shut in her face.

O0O

Hank walked out of the hospital two days after he had stumbled into the emergency room, faint and bleeding. He wasn't that undead it seemed. He cursed at the fact that the dullness of having been dead only affected his emotions, his way of thinking and to some extend his threshold for pain. That new threshold had proven a bitter disappointment when it came to a test. They had pulled two teeth out of the gaping wound in his stomach and he had spent a good hour explaining that away. He had served them a half-cooked story about his challenged nephew who had thrown a fit and was indeed brought to a different hospital to get checked out. Then he bailed before they could ask him more questions.

As soon as he was free, he headed for the Goode mansion. He needed to make sure Laveau hadn't taken offense enough to send her kid in there. He couldn't bear the thought of coming home to that massacre and he sped up the rented car.

The shadow still hung over the house even though it was midday. He rained frantic knocks onto the door, his heart sinking with every unanswered second, until it finally opened. Hank breathed a sigh of relief when Cordelia stood before him, unharmed. She looked sick with grief and while that was a slight improvement from the last time he saw her, the restless sorrow in her cut him deep. But physically, she was fine and that was the important thing for now.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked, quickly realizing, as the shadow drew across his ex-wife's face, that it was a stupid question. Luckily Cordelia seemed to understand that he was taking about a potential acute worsening and not the already existing grievances.

"Yes, why, what happened?" Then she gave his stomach a look and stepped forth to pull up his t-shirt. She had apparently spotted the thick bandages there. "What happened to you?!"

"It's fine, it's… never mind about it", he said and gently pulled her hand away. He liked that she had forgotten herself for a moment and behaved just as she had when she was still his wife, but more than a few seconds of it and it would start to hurt. She seemed to understand, because she withdrew and settled for a worried look instead.

"Did you get into a fight?"

"Well… sort of. Can I…" He pointed at the hall before Cordelia could protest and she let him in. He suspected she was too tired to be furious with him. "It was Laveau's son", he said once he had had a chance to sit down. His body still felt a little too alive for his taste.

Cordelia had frozen in the doorway. She stared at him wide-eyed and with a flash of fright in them.

"He's alive?" She almost whispered it. "How… oh." She seemed to realize something, Hank didn't know what. He was too preoccupied trying to explain.

"No and yes. He was… undead. She must have brought him back, but not like Misty did with me, it's messier and dark and…"

"You don't have to explain, Hank", Cordelia said with a grave voice and started to move again. "I know exactly how."

"What do you mean you-" Hank stopped, because Misty had just entered the room and the sight of her overpowered his surprise.

The first thing that always came to Hank's mind when he thought of Misty – apart from the bitter notion _wife stealer_ – was the radiance of power about her. It was completely gone these days. He couldn't help thinking that between the two of them, suddenly he felt like he was the live one and she was the only borderline living thing with a filter between her and the rest of the world. There was no sign of the strength it must have taken to kill Fiona. There was still ferocity in her eyes though, a fire when she looked at him. Exhausted as she was, her hate for him could not be quenched.

The look of her made Hank feel a tightening in his stomach. As much as he also despised her, he was the reason she was this shade of herself. He was also the reason for the grey tone in Cordelia's skin and the dark circles under her eyes. For once he could match Misty's hate for him. He passed her by miles.

Cordelia and Misty exchanged a look and the reaction on Cordelia's face took him aback. Four years ago he would have triumphed to see the insecurity and caution in her stare, where there was once only love and surrender, but now it troubled him. He understood that whatever the wretch between them, it would never be to his advantage. He had lost, even if for a moment it seemed like he had dragged Misty down with him.

"What's _he_ doing here?" She snarled.

"He came to warn us about Laveau's son. He's alive." Cordelia's voice was toneless. Hank saw that Misty just nodded slowly and Cordelia's eyes widened with surprise again. Another thing Misty had obviously neglected to tell her. _What the hell is happening with them_ , Hank thought, but kept it to himself.

Cordelia didn't voice her surprise, but looked at her watch instead.

"I have to go pick up Cage. Hank, go upstairs and get some rest. We'll talk more when I've picked up our son and have had a chance to speak with Misty." There was no room for argument in her voice and neither Hank nor Misty tried. Hank only nodded and found that he liked the firmness of Cordelia's voice. She was much stronger now than the last time he saw her. That was good.

Cordelia picked up the car keys on the coffee table and went to the hall. Misty turned and went back outside. Hank sat still for a moment, waited for the front door to close and then ran after Misty.

He reached her just before she went into the greenhouse. He couldn't help thinking of that day where he had heard her cry in there.

"Misty!"

She stopped, stared at the door for a long second before turning. She looked so tired. "What?"

"I…" As it always was with her, he lost his words as soon as she pierced him with that stare. But he had come to confess and he would do it. He explained to her how Laveau had found him and he had agreed to tell her the way to Misty's shack in the swamp. He watched as her eyes widened and then darkened. "I'm so sorry, Misty. I never thought it through."

A sound, a mix between laughter and a hiss, came out of her mouth. "You're sorry?"

Hank found that the quiet, exhausted hate in her eyes was a thousand times more frightening than Fiona's mocking stare or Laveau's sinister smile. He watched as her hands curled into fists so hard her knuckles turned white. He realized she was trembling.

She took a step forward and it took everything he had not to back away.

"If Cordelia didn't love you, I would kill you", she said through clenched teeth. "I shoulda never brought you back. You're a poison to everythin'. Go away before I _really_ hurt you."

She didn't move at all, but he could feel her fingers around his neck again. Absentmindedly, he felt for the holes in his dentures, before he pulled himself together and said: "I could just tell her it's all my fault. I could tell her what I did, maybe that would-"

"Don't you dare", Misty hissed. "Don't you dare destroy her just to ease your own guilt. Tellin' her won't make my part smaller, it'll only hurt her more to know you betrayed her too."

"I want to help fix things."

Misty scoffed. "You can't fix nothin'. No more than I can." Before Hank could say any more, Misty opened the door to the greenhouse, went in and slammed the door behind her.

Hank retreated then and waited patiently in the guest room until Cordelia found him later. He couldn't sleep, not with this guilt and the thought of the broken atmosphere in the house and the fact that Cordelia knew what Laveau's son was without having met him.

He found out the latter quick enough. That same night, when Cage had been put to bed and Hank was allowed back in the living room, all of them were ready for him. Cordelia sat on the couch, Misty stood in the far end corner and the girl, Zoe, was by the door to the terrace. When Cordelia nodded at her, she turned and disappeared.

"Are you being mysterious on purpose?" He asked Cordelia.

She shook her head. "No, but it's easier to see for yourself. Zoe's boyfriend Kyle appears to have gone through the same… treatment as Marie Laveau's son. I need you to see him and verify this."

Hank nodded, suddenly nervous. He didn't want to show it, but all he could think of was that tiny monster hacking its teeth into his stomach, screeching all the while. He tried to calm himself with the fact that Cordelia didn't seem that distressed about this Kyle person. For once Misty looked like the uneasy one and Hank wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Heavy steps on the porch stole his attention and Zoe came back, dragging a young man by the hand. He looked nothing like Laveau's boy, yet there was a familiarity about him, which made the hairs stand on Hank's arms. They were alike the same way the Voodoo Queen and Misty were – they had the same aura of something unearthly. But instead of strength and power, it was death and despair. A bone-deep restlessness, a look of emptiness in their eyes. Hank was surprised he remembered that many details about the kid, but now that he was faced with an older version of the same kind, it all came back to him.

"They're the same", he said at once.

"They're not!" The girl objected. The anger had been nowhere in her features, but suddenly it flared up and Kyle – if you could even call him a person's name – made a low grunting sound and squeezed her hand. "Kyle doesn't attack people anymore. He's calm with me." Hank couldn't deny that such seemed to be the case. Kyle sat down on the floor where Zoe stood, never letting go of her hand.

Cordelia interrupted before Hank could speak his mind: "Zoe, let him speak please. Hank, what happened with Damian?" Hearing the name of the boy – the boy that little thing used to be – only made it that much harder to explain. His filter was wearing thin in this house. He explained to them everything that had happened since he went into the house up until the moment he rid himself of the crazed child and fled to his car. These memories were blurred and rough around the edges. "He acted different, the boy", he ended up saying. "I don't know why. I get the same feeling from them, but the kid couldn't hold still, he was too restless. Maybe it's the age difference. I don't know. But what I do know is that the kid is Laveau's soft spot. If you want to go against her that's where her weak spot is."

"Her _son_?" Cordelia's voice was hard as stone and Hank knew he had screwed up. He could feel his chances of catching a glimpse of his own son's shadow getting slimmer by the second.

"I didn't mean… Look, Cordelia, I only want to help-" He cut himself off, when Misty shifted her weight in the corner. She caught his eyes and the warning was clear as day. Hank nodded, more to himself than any of them.

"Anyway, that's all I know. I should get out of your way." There was a short silence and Hank took it as he cue to leave. He stole one last glance as Misty, who ignored him, and then another look at Kyle. He didn't like to turn his back on him. He could feel teeth in his stomach.

He turned the whole thing over and over in his head on the way home, but in no corner of his brain was there a solution. He had no more part in this, unless he could make himself valuable. Gather some kind of information. And try not to sound like a psychopathic war strategist when he talked to his ex-wife. That would be step one.

He had barely closed the door to his hotel room before a sharp, wild pain exploded in his back. He yelled out and dropped his keys. It felt like thick, blazing needle jammed in beside his spine. He fell to his knees, fumbled for the source, but when he felt for the opening of the stab wound in his back, there was nothing there.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hey everybody, sorry for the long wait. These chapters are more difficult than I anticipated. On another note, I've posted a one-shot called "The Hank Journal", which is related to this story. For those who wants to know, it takes place during the ten years between part one and two in "Running in the Shadows" and explains how Hank got into the picture. Give it a try if you feel like it – I'd love to know what you thought. Same with this chapter of course. Now, let's get on with it.**

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Cordelia sat opposite Cometh, watched him sip his coffee out the corner of her eye. They sat in the kitchen, which made the meeting feel more businesslike instead of the social call Cometh had insisted it was. Cordelia wasn't quite sure what he wanted. She hoped he didn't mean to get to know her. She didn't have the resource to find a polite way of telling him that she had no room for him. They hadn't talked since the funeral. He wasn't there to reclaim the ring, Cordelia knew, because he had insisted that she be buried with it. So for now they just drank their coffee.

They hadn't talked aside from the first hello and Cometh asking how she was holding up. There was a fatherly concern to his tone, which she secretly loathed. She couldn't have said why. And she found herself thinking of her actual father. She almost never did, she didn't even have a face for him, but Cometh's question had brought something to surface and now she did. She wondered if he would come to her aid if he knew the chaos of her life. She didn't think so. He hadn't in all the previous crises they had had, so why now?

"I think I best tell you why I asked for a visit", Cometh finally said. Cordelia put down her coffee mug and looked at him directly for the first time since they had sat down.

"Please do."

"Fiona told me, well she made it very clear, that being engaged to her did not mean I would get any claim to her fortune. And I do not want it", he added quickly, when Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "But it made me think that perhaps you were in need of some finances? I have a substantial fond, which I have been saving to spend with Fiona, but seeing as that won't be possible…" He quieted for a moment, swallowed once and Cordelia caught a brief glance of the grief in him. It made her want to comfort him, but she said nothing. "I thought I would offer it to you. For whatever your needs. Perhaps an education for the boy?"

"Cage is barely four years old", was all Cordelia could think to say. The sorrow had robbed her of her courtesies and edged away her tact.

"I'm aware", Cometh said with a little smile. "Then perhaps some redecoration, some therapy for the butler. It's not for me to say. Either way, I have no use for this money. Would you have it?"

"I… I can't accept that, Cometh. It's immensely kind of you, but-"

"Please, Cordelia." It shocked her how vulnerable he sounded all of a sudden. "I longed to be Fiona's family. I know I would never have been much to you or _your_ family, but I got to know your boy a little. Let me do this for your family, for Fiona's. It would give me some peace."

Cordelia didn't know what to answer. She wanted to ask where the money had come from, but didn't because she knew already. And she didn't want the attachment that might come with drug-money. But she didn't want to deny him closure either. If this truly helped him…

She didn't finish the thought, because Misty entered the room then. The exhaustion was over her as always, dark circles had started to form under her eyes again. Her hair had reached a new normal of messiness and her walk was cautious, wary.

Cometh tensed immediately. He had not forgotten Misty's behavior at the funeral, it seemed, and no one could explain to him what had made her do it. He did nothing, said nothing, but his eyes flashed with anger.

Misty gave them both a quick look and then went to fill the water bottle she kept with her in the greenhouse. She still didn't know what she had done at that funeral and she couldn't know that she had hurt him most of all. Still, when she saw his gaze on her, understanding flickered in her eyes.

"You can tell him, Misty", Cordelia said, releasing the spell without Cometh knowing it was there.

"I'm sorry", Misty said. Her voice was toneless and while Cordelia knew it was the exhaustion, which likely came off as carelessness to Cometh.

"You must hate her a lot to do something like that."

Misty's eyes widened and she looked at Cordelia. Cordelia knew at once that Misty thought he was talking about Fiona's murder and shook her head slightly so only Misty saw. She relaxed again and it only infuriated Cometh further.

"What kind of person spits into an open grave? Have you no moral?"

"Enough, Cometh", Cordelia said without stopping to think about it. "Misty wasn't herself that day."

"None of us were, but is self-control too much to ask for?"

Misty just looked shocked and Cordelia regretted not having told her. She could have avoided this whole farce with a single sentence. It would have aided the growing tension between them, but it would have saved Misty from this attack.

"I shouldn't have done that", Misty said. "I can't explain it to you, but I didn't hate her. I'm sorry for your loss." She gave Cordelia a dark glare and then left.

Cordelia uttered a painful sigh. She didn't know how to explain this to Cometh and Misty had only offered him more mystery. She wasn't used to lying for other people's benefit.

"I'm so sorry about that, Cometh. I…" But Cometh interrupted her:

"You don't have to explain. I know you are going through some troubles as well. I lost my head. I apologize."

"Well I-", she began, wanting to deny the trouble, but found that the words wouldn't form. She was used to lying for other people's benefit, but today she couldn't. "Yes, I suppose we are."

Cometh nodded and got up from the chair. "I will leave you now. My offer still stands, so you think on it. I have practice to do."

"Practice?" Cordelia asked, hoping to evade the offer yet again.

"The Sax. I've found jazz soothes me in these times. Feel free to come in and listen some night." He pulled a small card out of his inner pocket and put it on the table. Then he nodded again and announced that he would see himself out.

Cordelia sat back and stared ahead of her, some at the card in front of her and some just into space. She didn't know what to do about his offer, so her mind drifted to Misty and what Cometh had made her admit. It made her think of what Misty had said to her the last time they talked. _It's up to you._ It made her feel like she was choking. And it made her frustrated to think that Misty had once again presented her with this choice. She had done a horrid job at choosing the last time and it had almost cost two lives. If she told Misty to go now, would it save them? What kind of life would that be for either of them? She knew Misty would never love another person.

Some days it felt like a terrible burden, knowing there was someone who loved her that much. Even her mother could not do that. And she couldn't help but think where would Misty then go? It had never occurred to Cordelia until this moment that she didn't know. Misty couldn't go back to her swamp, all the death of the place scared her now. She would be lost.

 _She would be lost without me._ Just as lost as Cordelia would be without _her_.

Just as lost as they felt with each other.

Cordelia made her way through the living room out into the back yard. Cage and Zoe sat on the porch and read a book. Zoe looked up when they came out, while Cage was busy tracing the figures on the page with his finger. Zoe smiled a sad smile of gratitude and Cordelia stroked her hair. Neither said a word. When Zoe returned to the book, Cordelia continued down to the greenhouse. Here she knocked on the door.

"Misty? Are you awake?" Her heart started pounding, but she refused to let it surface.

She received no answer.

Cordelia knocked again, then pulled at the handle. The door was locked.

"Misty? Can you hear me?"

She heard a low growl – one that would never been interpreted as human, if she hadn't known Misty so well – and then the sound of crawling. The thumb of a body falling against wood.

"We need to talk", Cordelia said.

"Not now, Delia. Can't." Her voice sounded strained, hoarse. She was under again. She was fighting and now she had taken to locking the door just to make sure she was alone in the fight.

Cordelia knocked again. "Please let me in, Misty. I only want to help."

"You can't help. Go back to the house."

"Please-"

"Go back!"

Cordelia flinched away from the door. She stammered a response and went, her rapid heartbeat dying out, as another inch of it fell off. She started to rethink what she had come to say, felt the doubt again.

Misty didn't show at dinner that night and Cordelia held her emotions in for Zoe's sake. The girl hadn't said much since their conversation on the edge of the bathtub, but in her eyes it was evident that Cordelia's words had struck a cord. There was a new fight in those eyes, a new insistence, a new yearning for comfort. Cordelia gave all she could. She had gotten into the habit of tugging Zoe in at nights when the exhaustion took her early. Time was moving too fast, she was in no way ready to care for a child who was already grown up, but whatever she did, the young adult received it with nothing but gratitude.

Today Zoe went to the attic to be with Kyle and Cordelia had only Cage to tug in. He always asked for Misty, when she didn't show and Cordelia could only tell him that she wasn't feeling well and she would see him tomorrow. Cage usually accepted that.

On this night he asked something new: "Where is grandma?"

Cordelia stood shocked, leaning over the crib and frozen with a hand at his warm little cheek.

"Grandma is dead, baby. She's with the angels now. We said goodbye to her, remember?" He nodded, but she wasn't sure that he meant it. The memories of a child seemed sometimes more volatile and perhaps his young mind had decided to let this one slide.

"When she coming back?" He asked then and as Cordelia prepared the answer, a well-known black wave of sorrow rolled over her again.

"She's not coming back, love. You can't come back once you die." It pained her so much to know that that was not always true in her world, because Fiona never would.

Cage accepted that too and said instead: "I miss her."

"Me too." She blinked the tear away, swallowed her bubbling emotions and bent down to kiss his forehead. She told him goodnight and left the room, because the wave overwhelmed her.

It felt like walking in half blindness, this all too familiar destructive determination. She went down the hall from Cage's room, into the master bedroom and further into the bathroom there. Her hands trembled and her lip quivered from the cries she tried to suppress. The tears she could allow because they didn't make a sound. Bottles and utensils clicked and clanged and she fumbled for the back of the closet and the razor there. She cut her finger on the edge of it and she was bleeding even before she sat down and pulled up her skirt. The first cut always made her gasp and it filled her with a sense of relief. Release too perhaps.

She sat there, ready to make the second cut, when she looked up at the door. There was nothing new about the door; she always closed it, never locked it though because Misty needed to be able to reach her if she went too far. The door was unchanged in this, but suddenly she remembered coming through there to find Zoe. It wasn't finding Zoe that made her think twice, as much as it was remembering how she had admitted to Misty helping her. Misty couldn't help her now. She had said that out loud for the first time and it was only now she stopped to acknowledge it.

Cordelia looked back down at her bleeding skin and the realization that Misty wouldn't cover it up brought an epiphany to her. There was no one left to fix her mess but herself. Misty was fighting her battle alone, but she didn't have to. If Cordelia would only stop acting the part of the damsel in distress, maybe Misty wouldn't be so alone in her fight. She needed strength and if Cordelia could be strong for Zoe and for Cage, why not for Misty too?

Her hands had stopped trembling now. Part of it was the relief of that first cut and part was this epiphany she experienced. Cordelia remembered she felt a similar calm the day she told her mother about the cutting. It had felt a bit like that first cut. Fiona was gone now and above the loss and the pain of that notion was this: Her passing meant that now Cordelia was the master of the house. It was about time she started acting like it.

Cordelia put the razor aside on the sink, wetted a paper towel and cleaned herself up. Once that was done, she cleaned the razor with water and (sprit) and placed it back into it's corner. It was a temptation to know that it was still right there within her reach, but she was a grown woman; she would have to learn how to resist temptation. It might not be a bottle of liquor, but the same rules applied.

The day after, she called Cometh to take him up on his offer.

O0O

Damian kept dropping the toys. And when he didn't drop them by accident, he threw them with his one good arm. There was a lot of strength in that little arm and he had broken most of his toys already. This was supposed to be the easy game. Marie had tried to teach him words again, the way Chinwee had told her the girl did with her beau. The boy, Kyle, seemed a lot more adequate at it than her little son. Perhaps it was just that he was too young. Or that it was too soon. That was why she switched to playing in hopes words would come out through that. So far she had had no luck.

Her little miracle took to gnawing on one of his old favorite cars and when it proved too solid to be bit in half he threw it with a wheezing sound of annoyance. Marie had learned to read him and while she knew it was time to stop, Damian could no longer read himself. He didn't know when he needed to shift focus and when to keep it.

Instead of continuing until he lost his patience completely, Marie gathered him and tried to put him down for a nap. She wasn't sure if he really needed the sleep anymore, but a couple of hours to lie in the crib and stare at the ceiling appeared to have a calming effect on him, so she kept up the routine. She thought perhaps that the simplicity of staring at a white space for a long time helped clear some of the confusion she felt was a constant presence in her son.

Marie took a moment to look at him. She used to talk to him all the time, _he_ used to talk all the time, but as he had grown quiet so had she. She understood his non-verbal communication just fine by now, but she wasn't so sure he understood her. It made her think of Cage Goode again. How Chinwee had told her that he had seem Cage communicate with his parents. He didn't have so many words, not near as many as Damian had at that age, Chinwee had noted, but he communicated well without them. He and his witch mother talked like that a lot. The witch was in general very non-verbal, Marie had observed that in her short stay here. Perhaps she had passed these abilities onto her child. By nurture of cause, they had no genetic link. And if this ability could be passed through nurture, the right teacher could pass it to her Damian as well.

Marie pushed the thought away. She knew where it was going.

Damian had fallen into something resembling a slumber. Marie didn't think that he really slept, but it was close enough. It was the only time in the day that she could leave him without him throwing a fit of dangerous hysteria. She did so now to go visit Chinwee in his room.

The bite Damian had given him the day Hank Foxx had come knocking was almost healed now. It had gotten infected and he had caught a small fever. Marie had given him the treatment she could and the family doctor had provided him with antibiotics, where Marie's potions and salves didn't work. She thought with more time she might be able to cook something up, but Chinwee had shook his head at that.

"I don't want voodoo in my body, Marie. That's what got me this", he had said, pointing with difficulty as the oozing bite marks. His words had angered her, but he was sick so she swallowed it and brought him to the doctor. They answered no questions on what sort of creature had bit him and the doctor stopped asking when he saw that the treatment was working.

Chinwee was on the bed, staring into the ceiling as well. When Marie entered, he sat up and looked at her. He understood her so well. Sometimes she thought he knew her better than her sister did. His expression was sad, but hard. Whatever he meant to say, he could not be bent. Marie beat him to it and said:

"He needs a playmate, Chinwee. I can't teach him everythin' alone."

He grimaced from the discomfort when he stood up. He looked at her long then answered: "It can't be me."

"Why would you deny me this?"

Chinwee sighed. He went to her and took her hand. He was rarely physical with her and it made her uneasy. He was gentle, but she watched him grow up too fast in that mature touch and it felt too strange for her liking.

"You've always been there for me, Marie", he said. "You took me in when my parents died, I ain't forgotten about that. I'll do whatever you want of me, but I don't think I can help Damian. He don't know me no more. He scared of me and everyone but you."

Marie opened her mouth to argue, but had no words to steer her, so she closed it again. Before she had a chance to open it again, there were new steps in her hall.

Moments after, Chantal appeared in the doorway.

Chinwee's hand dropped, but Marie barely noticed. Instead she stared at her sister, who hadn't shown her face since she packed up her side of the family and left months ago.

"What are you doing here?" She couldn't help the sharp tone. Chantal caught it, lifted an eyebrow at her, but didn't comment on it. Instead she turned to Chinwee.

"Give us a minute?"

Chinwee nodded and backed away from Marie, then went past Chantal and disappeared. He closed the door behind him, because he knew Damian couldn't handle the noise. And there might be noise, Marie anticipated that from the way Chantal looked at her.

For a moment the two sisters just looked at each other. Marie didn't feel like the older one in that moment. Chantal didn't even feel like her sister, because she looked at her the way their mama used to look at them when she was disappointed with them. It was usually Marie getting that look. She was the one to let her anger get the better of her, where Chantal would move away from trouble. But not today it seemed.

"I want you to stop this", Chantal said. Marie opened her mouth to speak, but her sister cut her off. "I told myself I'd given you the last chance, but I miss you. I want our family back together, but you gotta give somethin'."

"I'm done soon", Marie assured her. The sharpness had gone out of her voice and she thought she sounded like a little girl begging for more playtime before bed. "I did almost all of it, Chantal. I got rid of my enemy. I got the witch on a leash. I have the upper hand, I just need to-"

"I don't wanna know! And remember, Marie, you're a witch too."

Her blood started to simmer. "I'm not… not like her."

Chantal crossed her arms with determination, her eyes hard as rock. "You're exactly like her, 'cept you got your powers by some spell. You ain't born like this, you chose to become this person and I wish someone would take it away!"

"Don't say that", Marie hissed. She immediately thought of Damian, terrified of what that would do to him.

"I will say that!" Chantal shouted back. Her eyes flashed with anger. "Maybe you'd be you again! You didn't used to be this obsessed. Look, none of us forgave Delphine or Fiona Goode and dammit, we shouldn't have to, but this is too much. This is being no better than them. Our fight couldda been over but you had to keep it 'live with those voodoo skills of yours."

Marie fought to keep her emotions from showing. She couldn't break, not for Damian. But the look on the Goode girl's face in that shack came back to her and she felt the hole inside her again, the one where there used to be a seething wish for revenge.

"I can leave that now, I promise", she told her sister. "But not my potions or my spells. I need them for Damian."

"You need to give your boy peace, Marie."

Marie turned away so she didn't have to react to the tears in Chantal's eyes. Or the ones in her own. "I can't."

"You don't know how or you scared to try?"

"I can't!"

There was a moment of silence. The anger twisted like snakes inside her and she thought she heard Damian hiss through the wall. Or maybe that was just her imagination. Her desperate wish for him to be more. To her sister he was already a ghost, but to her there was still a chance. She knew there was a way, with proper teaching. Chantal didn't.

Chantal gave a sigh of defeat. "Then I gotta go", she said.

Marie didn't speak. She barely looked her sister's way, only vaguely registered the shifting of her body, the steps of her feet and the creaking of the door. Then she was alone.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait again. But here's a long one for you, hope that helps. Also I realize I may be moving away from the original myth of Papa Legba – and I don't mean to offend his origin story, I'm just shaping something from what little I gathered from the show. And it is fanfiction after all. Anyway, enough out of me. I hope you like it!**

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Hank had spent a lot of time in the past few days changing his mind about this strategy and then changing it back. He felt brave tonight and so he sat in the bushes near Laveau's house, waiting for a jackpot. Yesterday he had been too scared to show up. The supernatural torture – or so he called it in lack of better word – he had experienced when he came home from Cordelia's house, still haunted him. The imprint of the blinding agony with no wound lingered with him like a prickling sensation in his body. He had been so thoroughly taken aback that he had had no way of figuring out what was happening as it happened and only hours later did the word 'voodoo' reenter his mind. He hadn't quite understood it then either, but he had accepted it. And now he was scared shitless to feel it again. The filter was no match for pain like that.

But scared shitless or not, he had to fix this.

He thought to himself that this might be the only action in his entire life that his departed mother-in-law would approve of. Manning up and protecting his family. If spying on people from behind the bushes could be considered manly. Probably not.

It wasn't Laveau he was looking for. He wasn't kidding himself anymore, there was no way he could take her on. It demanded people of equal power, people like Misty. And Misty was incapacitated, so this was the link Hank sought to break. If he could figure out how to end Laveau's control over Misty, perhaps Misty would regain the strength it took to get the woman out of their lives. But breaking the link required information on how to do so and so Hank took a note out of the Voodoo Queens book and placed a spy. As he was alone with the task, _he_ would have to be the little bird.

At the moment only two people occupied the house, not counting the ghost of Marie's son. The Queen herself and the guy Hank had seen when he burst in to become lunch to the kid. Chinwee, was his name. That was the extend of what Hank had learned about him. And Chinwee was the way in, he gathered. So he sat there, waiting for an opening to approach Chinwee, while keeping the upper hand. A difficult task without the home field advantage.

His train of thought broke as the door opened. Chinwee came out with a garbage bag, which he took around the back. Right towards Hank. This was his chance.

Hank wasn't sure whether it was dumb luck or the fact that Chinwee's focus must be elsewhere what with the horrors of his home – because it certainly wasn't Hank's clumsy kind of stealth – that did it, but he managed to catch the man off guard. He waited until he had walked past, his hands occupied with the garbage bag, then snuck out of the bushes and crept up behind him.

He placed a knife at Chinwee's throat and hissed at him to shut up the second he made a noise. Chinwee froze then, and the calmness of him made Hank uneasy.

"Hank, it's you, ain't it?"

It also worried him that Chinwee seemed to know him this well, without them ever having been introduced. Hank told him to shut up again.

Chinwee chuckled. "A little outta your debt, ain't you?"

"Shut up. I need you to give me some information about Marie Laveau." He hated how much his hand shook. It might just be a slight tremble, but it might as well be fucking Parkinson's because he knew Chinwee could feel it. He was wrong; Fiona wouldn't find this manly. She was rolling in her grave for sure. For a second he pictured it and saw how the dust must fall into the broken cavity of her chest and it snapped him back into focus. "You know her", he went on. "So that means you know how to rid her of that power she has."

To his surprise the other man didn't resist at all. He nodded – just slightly, because the knife was still quivering at his throat – and said: "I know. But you can't do it."

"Why the hell not?"

"'Cause you ain't in contact with the master of the underworld, I'm guessin'."

"Who?" Hank had to ask, feeling like a fucking imbecile as he did. Something about the certainty Chinwee spoke with made Hank realize just how far out of his comfort zone he was.

Chinwee didn't laugh anymore, but the exasperation was in his voice. "Papa Legba."

Hank stared at Chinwee's ear, trying to determine if he was being played or what. The tone didn't imply it. It occurred to him all of a sudden how odd it was that he, who had actually been dead, had never seen this Papa Legba guy. The underworld was where the dead supposedly went. And he didn't remember having a dead cocktail chat with this demon person.

When he said this to Chinwee – while omitting the part where he had been the dead one – the man only sighed and said: "He the gatekeeper. He trades in souls and he come lookin' for live ones. Ain't no value in those already dead."

Hank pondered this. Perhaps you had to see him on the brink of death for it to count and in that moment, Hank had been far too drunk to notice any masters of the underworld who might happen by. Or perhaps Chinwee was just fooling him.

"So you're telling me that's who she has her powers from?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me how it works", Hank tested, expecting Chinwee to laugh and tell Hank he was an idiot for actually believing the story, but his response was one of frustration:

"I don't know how none of it works! She settled it with him and he the only one who can undo it, if it can be done. That's all I know." He paused, a sigh escaped him and he turned his head a bit towards Hank. The knife didn't allow him to move all the way. Then he added: "But you gotta act soon, if you gonna do somethin'. She gettin' desperate." Hank regarded this with pause. It didn't feel like Chinwee was fooling him. And what surprised Hank more, it sounded like Chinwee wanted him to do this.

"I will", Hank answered. "And you better not tell her about this, or I'm coming back for you." He didn't think he sounded the least bit threatening even as he said it, but he did his best to push Chinwee away with force to prove his point. He turned to leave before the other could retaliate.

"Wait." Hank stopped, and turned back. Chinwee hadn't moved, and didn't look like he was planning a counter attack. "It ain't just that", he said. "Her boy the problem too."

"You don't think I know that?"

"Don't act like no war victim, 'cause he took one bite outta you. I _live_ with them. And I love Damian. He was like a kid brother to me, but this ain't the way it's supposed to be. You gotta make the witch do her thing on him. The Goode girl. She can end him right."

Hank stood dumbfounded for a moment, not sure of what to say. He had been prepared for a fight, anticipated one in the event he didn't run like hell the second he had gotten the information he needed. But Chinwee did none of those things. He just stood there, and the pleading in his gaze made Hank think that perhaps this war they were in was not as clear-cut into friends and enemies as he had thought.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"I want her to be her old self again. She won't find peace 'till her boy does." He didn't give Hank a chance to answer. Instead he turned and walked away with the garbage bag still in his hand.

O0O

Misty wasn't in the greenhouse when Cordelia came looking for her. She had started there, because it had become Misty's new room. Ever since she admitted everything, it had been her only room. It would be a horrible thought if she didn't know how much Misty loved being close to her plants. Still, Cordelia thought it was time she found out if Misty truly wanted to stay out there.

She found Misty in their bedroom, lying on their shared bed. They hadn't shared it in so long, but Cordelia still thought of it that way.

As soon as Misty saw her, she motioned to get up, a wary look taking form on her face.

"No, don't get up. Please."

Misty fell back again. "Thanks. I slept wrong last night, kinda needed the soft."

Cordelia stepped close to the bed, but waited to sit. Misty gave her a questioning look.

"Can we talk, or do you want to sleep?"

"We can talk." Misty stayed down, but reached up for Cordelia's hand. She had been so hesitant with touches ever since the truth came out – ever since Cordelia found her in the woods to be honest – but today she forgot herself and it filled Cordelia with warmth and heartbreak, all wrapped up in each other. She took the hand and sat down on the bed.

Cordelia took a breath. Her voice trembled at first, when she spoke: "I understand that as a mere mortal I have no role in this war." She squeezed Misty's hand and swallowed to regain control over her voice. "I know that you shut me out to protect me, that you still do. And I'm not a fool, I know I need that protection. But I wish it wasn't so. And I know I've probably made it worse by shutting you out in turn, out of fear or hurt or… I'm not even sure I know. But now that I know the whole story, I wish you would let me help you."

Misty was quiet for a long time, so long Cordelia thought maybe the spell on her wrapped tighter today or perhaps she was too weary of Cordelia's begging attempts and constant shifts in mood.

"Does my being here still hurt you?" Misty then asked. There were quiet tears in her eyes.

Cordelia thought about it. She wanted to say no, but she wanted to be honest as well. They used to be open books to each other. "I don't know. No, but… seeing you like this hurts me. Knowing you are so far from your usual self. And at the same time knowing I can't help, after all the times you have helped me. That hurts." She looked back to find Misty heavy with thought.

"How do you do it?" She asked. "How do you… take this without goin-" She stopped herself and looked up at Cordelia with an apologetic gaze.

"Without going crazy you mean? I don't think I can give a satisfying answer to that."

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

Cordelia shook her head. "No it's alright. I am crazy. There's no reason to deny that now." She tried to smile and a bit of the wariness dissipated from Misty's gaze. Cordelia stroked her hand with a thumb and went on: "But what I should add is that I've reached a level of acceptance, I think. On most days that is. You learn to live with it, learn to think through them there. It may be different for you, because you're not actually insane, but maybe the same rule applies. And I know how strong you are. I know you can fight it. I'm sorry for implying otherwise."

Misty nodded slightly, then looked away for a moment. The tears still glinted in the corners of her eyes. Then she turned her gaze back to Cordelia and there was fright in her eyes. A fright that was so rare in her that it cut right through Cordelia and in that moment, all she wanted to do was to wrap Misty up in her embrace and make it her dying quest to protect her.

"What if I'll never get out of this, Delia? What if it makes me crazy so I can't beat it?"

"Then we'll be crazy together", she answered.

There was a veil that lifted in that moment, a cloud of dark, which had hovered in the space between them for so long. The air felt lighter. Cordelia moved closer, laid herself down beside Misty. She reached out and touched the frame of Misty's face, stroked it with careful fingers. No matter all the pent up hurt from the past, the guilt from the deceiving and this new agony, there was one feeling she couldn't shake: This was the face of her dreams. This creature was the love of her life. Cordelia hadn't thought her capable of the things she had learned now, but whatever she was, she had acted out of love and that never stopped being the truth.

Misty watched her with eyes that were finally calm and she lifted a hand to mimic Cordelia's movements. The touch made her world tiny for just a moment. Her eyes darted to Misty's lips and then back to her eyes, while the internal talks went on. Could she forgive Misty this easily? Was there really anything to forgive? Would Misty even let her or was she too frightened by the foreign forces in her head? Too hurt still?

The hand on her face lowered and Misty grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulled her in. It was an achingly slow kiss, asking in a way, trying each other out and finding their way back.

And there it was. Cordelia moved in better, hovered over Misty and kept a light pressure, heady now that she tasted the serenity coming back. There was a little teenager in her that surprised her in moments like this and she deepened the kiss in her search for what once was. And when she found it, it was like the room grew warmer, a comforting warmth that engulfed them both. She pushed the boundaries and Misty let her. She felt her body wake up from the sedated sleep she had forced it into, not unlike the first time Misty had ever kissed her.

When she broke this kiss, she found a sense of peace in Misty's face she hadn't seen in a long time. The fisted hands loosened from her collar, but stayed in their spot, feeling for the pulse in Cordelia's neck.

"It's been a while since we've kissed like that", Cordelia said.

Misty gave her a small smile, nodded. "Yeah."

Cordelia smiled back, stroked her cheek. Misty held her tighter.

"Don't go away."

"Okay." She leaned down again, placed little napping kisses on Misty's lips, but it wasn't long until Misty pulled her closer again. She was needy, and Cordelia wanted to give. She knew that for sure now, if she had ever truly doubted it. She saw clear again.

The door swung open, startling them both right out of their tiny world.

"Cordelia, Cage keeps asking for that book with the-" Just then Zoe realized what she had walked into, and she froze, eyes widening and mouth hanging open for a few seconds. "Oh my God. Oh my God I'm sorry I-I'll just find it myself. I'm sorry!" Then she backed out, her steps retreated from the doorway, then stopped and came back. She grabbed the handle, gave another flustered apology and closed the door.

Cordelia and Misty looked at each other while the sound of Zoe's hasty footsteps disappeared down the stairs. Then they laughed. The sound of Misty's laughter was the most cathartic thing Cordelia had heard since the day Marie Laveau's boy lost his life in the swamp. They laughed until the tears in Misty's eyes rolled out, and ran their way down her face, into the mess of her hair.

"When did we adopt her?" She asked, her voice full of laughing sniffles.

"I'm not sure. I think I felt responsible and I wanted to make sure she had a home. I hope that's okay?"

"'Course. You're beautiful inside out, you know that right? Don't let nobody tell you different."

Cordelia gave her a sad smile, only it didn't feel so sad anymore. The warmth of the room protected her again and even though the laughing had stopped, the lightness of the air remained.

"As are you. More so, my beautiful girl."

"Pretty for a swamp rat, huh?" Misty winked and it only took Cordelia's mind a second to travel back to that day in the swamp, which Misty was no doubt also thinking of. How simple it all felt that day.

"I remember that day so clearly", Cordelia said, as she stroked Misty's hair away from her sticky cheeks. "It was before I knew how much I loved you. But you always knew."

"Yeah. And all I wanted was to kiss you and I didn't even know what that was like yet."

"You were always so much wiser than me. But…"

Misty's forehead creased and she cocked her head a bit to the side. "But what?"

"But would you still? Say you knew everything you know now, would you still want to?"

A serious look came over Misty's face at first. Then a playful smirk replaced it and Misty got up, spun them until she ended on top.

 _I'm having a déjà vu,_ Cordelia thought as she drew Misty's unruly hair back behind her ears. She wasn't sure if she had said it aloud or not, because suddenly everything matched that memory and her heart beat so fast she couldn't hold it in.

Then Misty put her lips on hers and they were back. Back to the heated afternoons in the shack, back to when they first blossomed. It was still right there, all if it, ready to be grasped and pulled back in.

"I don't want you to go", Cordelia said. She didn't realize she was crying until Misty's thumb smeared the tear over her cheekbone. "I forgive you. I love you. I want you here with me. Please say you forgive me too."

"I do. 'Course I do, Delia."

"Good", she said and got lost in another kiss. Misty pulled them both up sitting, never losing contact, but with hands fumbling.

"Touch me", she breathed into Cordelia's ear. The feel of her breath and the knowledge of what Misty's allowance meant lit her body up. She felt full alert finally, and when she pushed Misty's grass-stained dress up her thighs the breathless, heady atmosphere took the last of her thoughts. She rid Misty of her dress and pushed her back down on the mattress. She needed her skin. Her skin was the sun and Cordelia could already feel the shadows creeping away, back to the crevices of her mind, which was their true home. They could live there so long as she had this. And she would never let her go again. She whispered this into Misty's neck as they undressed. She planted kisses everywhere she could, savored the taste, drank the sounds of Misty's moans, relishing in the knowledge that their connection wasn't broken after all. Their bodies still worked each other as if this cleft between them had lasted but an afternoon.

Spent, sweaty and happy they lay under the covers wrapped in each other. Nighttime was still far away, but Cordelia closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep just for a chance to wake up next to Misty again.

O0O

Zoe made a big deal out of tidying up the living room, when Cordelia came down later that day. She had emerged around the time Cage's nap was over and Zoe flushed red with embarrassment upon first sight of her. But Cordelia only smiled and it struck Zoe how peaceful she looked all of a sudden. Zoe smiled back and then smiled to herself at the thought of what she had seen. When she swallowed the awkwardness of having walked in on them like that, she was thrilled that they were back together.

Misty came down later, but instead of going to the kitchen she came to Zoe.

"I wanna try 'n talk to Kyle again", she said. "See if I can do somethin'. See if maybe he knows somethin' that can help. But I don't wanna go 'bout it like last time, so maybe you could talk to him first?"

It struck Zoe again how suddenly the entire atmosphere of the house had changed. The peace, the will to solve, both had come back over the cause of whatever had happened up there. She couldn't help but smile again, despite knowing that with the will came the fight and with the fight came the anger that she had tried to push down.

"Zoe?"

Zoe snapped out of it and nodded. "Yes of course, Misty. I-I'll try to talk to him. Maybe it's easier if I can get him to remember you from before. I'll see if I can do that."

Misty nodded and made a move to leave.

"Misty?"

She turned again. "Yeah?"

"Are you guys… are you okay again?"

Misty broke into a smile. She didn't say anything, but she winked at Zoe and then followed the sound of Cage to the kitchen.

Zoe left them to reconnect and went out back to the door leading to the attic. There was an additional lock on the outside door now, had been ever since she brought him back here. The extra security was Cordelia's condition for letting him stay on the grounds. Zoe thought to herself that a lock like this might break just as easily as a human skull, but she didn't say that to Cordelia. She only expressed her gratitude that Kyle could have a roof over his head, even if he didn't particularly need one. But if she was to convince him to rejoin the living and be human instead of this in-between then a roof was a must.

She could hear him get up as she ascended the stairs. She was the only one up here, but Misty had told her that Kyle was always on the floor on the few occasions she had been up here. As if he could tell Zoe's steps apart from the rest. He used to do that. He used to tell her he could pick her out of a line-up, blindfolded.

He smiled when she opened the door. He was standing in the middle of the room. As opposed to sitting on it. That was really all there was to do up here.

"We really need to get you some furniture, don't we?"

"Chair and table", Kyle said. "And bed?" He looked more asking this time. Zoe nodded.

"Yes, we would need those things. Kyle, I need to talk to you." She tugged at his hand to make him sit and he did so. She sat down with him and for the first few seconds she just looked at him. He looked more attentive than usual, she thought. Like he had something particular on his mind.

"What is it, Kyle?" She asked. The thought that he had something to say was overwhelming in a way, because of the way he was now; he never spoke unless she asked him a question or told him to read to her. But this time he was the one to lead a conversation, even if it was only by the urgency in his eyes.

"I wan-na meet dead bo-y." His speech was still slow, but she could see that he worked to articulate the words. At first she didn't understand.

"What do you mean dead boy?"

"Bo-y like me. Maker of me had a bo-y."

Then she understood.

"You mean you want to meet Damian? Marie Laveau's son?" He nodded eagerly in that theatrical way that he had adapted. "Why?"

"Man said we are same. I wan-na meet him."

Zoe shook her head, not to deny his request, but his comparison. "You're not. He's just a scared little boy who shouldn't have come back, but you could have a life."

"I'm scar-ed too."

Zoe put both hands on his cold face, on either side and she could feel his curly hair tickling her fingers.

"I know, baby. But you also have more memory. You still remember your old life, don't you?"

Kyle appeared to be thinking for a long time. And she knew he was thinking, because his eyes kept flickering. When he zoned out his eyes stood still. They flickered more these days.

"Yes. I rem-ember. Some."

"Do you remember Misty?" She took a shot. There was something now that he wanted and it would require Misty's help.

Kyle's face went dark. He started making his low snarls, when Zoe tightened her grip on his face to get his focus back.

"I know you don't like her now, because she can make you sleepy like that. But she used to be your friend. And you wanted to be her friend, remember?"

Kyle thought again. "Shack", he then said. "We went to forest. Misty's shack. I was hungry."

Zoe hadn't realized just how much of the day before his death was there. She wasn't sure he was supposed to remember so much, but she found herself tearing up at the prospect of his memory coming back. "That's right, you went after food and Misty told you to be careful with what berries to eat."

"So I tried to eat bear."

At first it sounded like he couldn't properly pronounce berry, but when she looked up at him there was a look in his eyes that she hadn't seen since before his death.

"Kyle, did you… did you just make a joke?"

He was slow, but he nodded. "Like. It?"

Then Zoe laughed. She laughed until the tears spilled over.

O0O

Suddenly Misty felt drawn to Cordelia's presence like a moth to a flame. It must be all the time apart or maybe this was just how she had always felt and their string of crises had made her realize it more consciously. Whatever the reason, she could not stray from physical contact. And for once Cordelia was not one to desist either. Their son sensed this as well, like he always did, and he did not ask either of them to get up after they had read the book he requested. Instead he sat on Cordelia's lap, leaning into her chest and playing with Misty's hair as she leaned against Cordelia's shoulder. The couch was just barely large enough to hold all of them, but neither thought to move.

It was after dinner. There were leftovers in the fridge for Zoe, who had announced that she would spend the evening with Kyle. It sounded like he was starting to remember more and more. Misty hoped it was so, because then perhaps he would remember not to be afraid of her, despite his body telling him that she was the enemy.

Cordelia shifted her weight and Misty moved to give her room. Cage had fallen into a light slumber; he only grunted lightly and kept his eyes closed. Once settled in, Misty put her head back against Cordelia's shoulder.

"I've missed this", she whispered into Cordelia's ear. "I don't know who's in debt to who now. And I don't want nothin' to do with it."

"I'm in debt to you", Cordelia said. Misty couldn't see her face, but she knew how it would look. Cordelia would have that serious expression in her eyes. But not the hard look from when she was hurt or angry. It was the softer one, the one of acceptance. Her mouth would curve a bit and Misty could almost make out the shape of the next words before she said them: "I am. For all the times you've endured me."

"I don't want no guilt, I said. We're done with that now."

She could hear the soft incredulous laugh that sometimes followed Cordelia's smiles.

"I love you." There was the same incredulity in these words. Misty smiled at them. She said them back just as Zoe came into the living room from the front porch. Misty kissed Cordelia's shoulder and then turned to see Zoe's face.

"He'll talk to you. He's okay with it now."

Misty moved to get up and caught the worried look on Cordelia's face.

"It's okay. I gotta do this."

Cordelia looked like she was about to argue, but thought better of it. Instead she nodded and took Cage off her thigh and into her arms.

Misty followed Zoe out and up to the attic. She could feel that peculiar aura come off Kyle even before she entered the room. She was more aware of it today; her senses felt sharper, the humming less present. She was almost her own today.

Kyle sat in the middle of the room as he always did. The look in his eyes was cautious, dark, but less hostile. And concentrated, Misty thought. As if he was consciously fighting the impulse to hate her.

She moved closer, carefully so. Zoe stepped around them and sat herself down beside Kyle, as a guardian. Which of them she needed to guard, Misty did not know yet.

Misty sat down in front on Kyle. She couldn't speak without being spoken to and she felt that as soon as she tried to speak. A silence erupted.

"You have to talk first, Kyle", Zoe said.

Kyle just grunted. Zoe wouldn't have it.

"You have words, Kyle."

Kyle gave Misty a scolding look, then said: "Hi."

Misty looked up at Zoe, then back at the undead man in front of her. The spell released itself and it was her turn now. She didn't know how to do it, but as it always was with the things she didn't know, she took them as they came.

"Do you remember me?" She asked him.

At first he did nothing. Then he carefully shook his head. That surprised them all.

"Do you know my name?"

Kyle nodded. "I. Know you. But can't rem-ember… How. Used to be. Can't see through." It took effort for him to find the words, Misty understood, but the improvement in his speech was hard to miss as well. Zoe had done solid work on him.

"See through what?"

"The…" He couldn't find any words so he waved slowly in front of her, in a type of shaping movement around her. Misty thought she understood. Cordelia used to say she had a sort of aura about her, vibe of strength she sometimes called it. Something unearthly and Misty guessed it must be her ability giving her that aura. She thought that was what Kyle saw. He had made her discover something new about herself; she was not only able to give life, but also to take death away. And often that was the same thing, but with Kyle it was not. And he feared this about her.

"It's because of what I can do, ain't it? My abilities scare you." They knew that already. But if she could make him understand that she was without that for now, then perhaps he would let her close.

Kyle nodded. And Misty explained how the Voodoo Queen had put a block on her. Kyle listened and it looked like he understood. His eyes were more alert than before. "Can't you feel it?" Misty asked at last. "Can't you feel that I can't touch you with it?"

"Some", he said in his slow voice. "Not all gone."

That made her smile. He said it like it was still a threat to him, but knowing he felt this in her meant that her ability was still there. She could get it back. And so she cut to the core of their conversation.

"I wanna get it back. Same with rest of me. I wanna have my head back. So do you, I think. I don't know how much I can help you Kyle, but I'll do what I can. And maybe you can help me."

"You. Make me. Sle-ep."

"I won't if you don't wanna. I won't touch you. I promised Zoe."

Kyle looked up at his girlfriend and it seemed the reassuring smile he received convinced him. The hostile look on his face faded a fraction. Then his face changed. He looked determined. So far the only expressions Misty had seen on his face was hate, hostility and that blankness that came with his confusion of being almost alive.

"I want. Something", he said. Misty looked up at Zoe to see if this was news to her as well, but she looked only at Kyle, urging him on. So she knew.

"What's that?"

"I wanna. Meet. Bo-y. Like me."

"He wants to meet Damian?" Misty wasn't sure who she had directed her question at, if any, but Zoe answered:

"Yes. He told me just before. I don't know how, Misty, but if he can help you get control back… it's important to him."

"I get it. But first-" she looked back to Kyle. "-first you gotta tell me what you know 'bout her. Anythin' that can help."

Kyle looked at the floor for a while. When he spoke again his voice was rough, as if he had been muted for hours. "I feel some things she feel. She's scared. All time. I feel her anger. At you." He looked up. Misty nodded. She sometimes felt Laveau's anger too, but through the commands she received and rarely in the pure emotional form she thought Kyle was talking about. Kyle continued: "She has power ov-er me. Can feel that up close. Not this far away. She has power over boy too?" He asked this as a question, but Misty wasn't sure he meant it as such. His speech was stunted, his memory clouded and his wits fogged, but none of it was completely gone. And he seemed clearer by the minute. As if he had talked himself warm. He continued to tell her of the things he felt through his maker, but he knew little of her skills to Misty's disappointment. Kyle started to become slow again, tired it seemed, and when she moved to hear him better he grunted and flinched away. His humanity seemed spent for the day. Zoe noticed this as well.

"I think we better stop now", she said, while eyeing Misty and Kyle in turn. Misty agreed. She was tired herself. But knowing that Marie was too, knowing she was scared, made her human in Misty's mind again. And she had never been afraid of any human being.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, you guys. I'm on the last run with my master's thesis, so I have limited time. Thank you for being patient and please enjoy. We don't have much left!**

* * *

Cordelia had been waiting nervously inside the house while Misty tried communicating with Kyle. She kept her distance – in light of her admission that she had no part in this war – and it made Misty realize her role: She was the rational thinker. She was the only one clear of Marie's ability. She would be their thinker and so Misty told her what Kyle had explained to her.

"I think that a scared Marie Laveau can be both advantageous and extremely dangerous", Cordelia had said and went on to the obvious question: "How do we release everyone from her control? If she has no leash on any one of us, she is no danger and she can mourn her loss in peace. That's in everyone's best interest."

The last piece fell into place, when Hank came knocking on their door again. He told them that he had figured out how Marie's power worked and asked to be let in. It was Cordelia at the door. If it had been Misty, she thought she might have slammed it in his face either way.

She couldn't stand the sight of him, ever since the confessions he had made to her upon his last visit. It gnawed at her insides, it itched in her fist to break his teeth. But she kept her distance and did her best to keep a straight face. Mostly for Cordelia's sake, because if she saw the intensity of Misty's rebirthed hate, she would ask why and the whole point was to keep her out of it. They were finally in a good place again and such knowledge would throw her right back in the dark.

Hank knew all of this – that much was obvious in the glance he stole at her as he walked by to go sit on the couch.

The rest of the family gathered around him. Cordelia sat in the armchair – Misty noticed that she had begun to do this and found that it fit. It felt like an unspoken heirloom and Misty had no wish to touch it. Zoe sat on the other side of the couch at a respectable distance to Hank, who was still a stranger to her. Misty herself stayed by the entrance to the living room, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. That way she wouldn't be so tempted to claw his eyes out.

"Tell us what you found out", Cordelia said to him.

Hank gave a slight nod and said: "Are you all familiar with Papa Legba?"

All three women nodded. Hank looked a little surprised. Papa Legba had always been an expression in the Goode house more than an actual person and Misty figured Hank thought the same. Yet the figure of speech had become real to them in a different way in the past few years.

"Okay", he said. "So apparently Marie Laveau made contact with him long ago and sold her soul to him in exchange for her powers. According to that boy Chinwee, who lives with her, Papa Legba can undo it, if he wants to. So all we have to do is convince him."

Misty snarled at Hank. He looked at her with caution, but Cordelia caught on.

"What is it, Misty?"

"Did you hurt Chinwee?" Misty asked. He wasn't a part of the war either.

To her relief Hank shook his head. "No. He actually gave me all this information with minimum persuasion. I think he wants Laveau's powers gone as much as we do."

Misty scoffed. "Ain't you forgettin' somethin'? How're we gonna talk to the underworld?"

"We are not", Hank said and his eyes shone a shade more serious. "But you are. You've seen him, haven't you? That night. I did some digging and legend says only those who's been approached by him can make contact freely. That's you, Misty."

She hated hearing him say her name. But she knew at the same time that he was right in a way. She would have to do it. Cordelia was looking at her from across the room and they locked gazes. She was nervous, Misty could tell. She was saying that she didn't like it.

"I can do it", Misty said. She said it to Cordelia first and then looked at Hank.

"Do you have any research on how to do it?" She heard Cordelia ask Hank. At this he looked at a loss.

"I guess you just call out", he offered, but Misty paid him no mind. She didn't need guidelines. She was one for calling out to things that the regular person couldn't see or touch. The trance had nothing to do with her powers, it was only a tool to channel them and so she wasn't blocked when she called out this time.

It took a while and the room fell silent in the wait. She hadn't noticed herself moving until she felt the carpet under her feet. When she called for him, the vision of a dead forest came back to her and she knew she had seen it before, once in a fever dream on the brink of death. It was the only thing she associated with him and so it became her gateway.

When she turned around she saw him standing there in the barren meadow and at the same time he stood in the wide doorway with that smile on his face. That sinister, crooked smile she had seen him wear once before. He tipped his hat at her and she recognized his croaky voice when he said: "So we meet again; Misty Day."

Behind her the entire room gasped. She heard Zoe whisper: "I can hear him. Where is he?" No one answered. Misty thought perhaps only she could see him. The air felt cold around her and she didn't know if the others could feel that too, but she thought that the longer he was here the more real he felt and she didn't like that. The darkness behind him seemed too vast, and it came closer, so she wasted no time:

"I gotta ask you somethin'."

"Everybody gotta ask me somethin'", he said. "So ask me."

"Can you take Marie Laveau's powers away?"

He regarded her for a long minute. His big, red eyes lingered on hers and she felt the weight of them. As if he was measuring her by her entire soul. She heard Zoe mumble: "Did he answer her?" and then the sound of Cordelia gently shushing her.

"A soul for a soul", he finally said and the room gasped again. His voice rang with the same cadence Misty remembered from her first encounter and it crept under her skin with an icy chill. "You give me a soul and that soul comes to live with me. Then Marie gets her mortal soul back. Her powers won't go with it."

"Why do I have to die? Marie ain't dead."

"That's my currency for the exchange. And I don't do refunds."

"So I have to go with you?" Misty asked. She felt cold all over.

"I want you, yes. But any soul will do", Papa Legba said.

"Misty…" Cordelia's broken voice brought her out of it and she turned around to find her love's eyes full of tears. Her lip quivered and in her eyes were that little girl, lost in the forest. "Misty, please don't go with him."

The second Misty stopped thinking about Papa Lebga and of Cordelia instead, the cold faded away and the darkness crept back slowly. She realized she was losing the connection. When she spun around to search for the gate to the underworld, she found only a vague silhouette of him, only a hazy imprint of dead trees. Cordelia walked to her and closed a hand around hers. Misty looked at her again, gave her a look that said she meant to stay and then looked back for Papa Legba. He was almost gone.

"Wait, I ain't done yet", she called out. She could still make out his red eyes and his smile.

"Call on me when the choice is made." It sounded like a whisper, a mean wind that spawned from the fading black. When he was gone, Spalding stood where the darkness once was, holding blankets.

O0O

did Marie break the connection? Misty

Marie sat with a sleeping Damian on her lap when she heard the door. Chinwee's steps were slow and hesitant and it gave her a bitter taste in her mouth. She could feel the energy floating into the house with him like a bad omen.

When he came into the room, it was in his face. Marie felt it like a rock jumping onto her heart and she would have rushed from the chair and into his guilty face with a claw if it wasn't for her tranquil son. Her anger made him stir, but she didn't allow it to blossom and he kept sleeping. She would never have thought she could keep it down, if it wasn't for the sadness quenching her emotions.

"I knew you'd leave me too", she said. Her voice sounded hard and cold, but she felt like a bleeding, seething sea on the inside.

"I ain't leavin' you. I'm tryna save you."

"Bull _shit_ ", she spat. "You just scared like all the rest!"

Chinwee just shook his head slowly. She could see the hurt in his eyes, but she was too mad to believe it.

"I think they can help you. And I think you're too scared to ask for it, but you want it-"

"They're the enemy, Chinwee! You forget all the nasty things they did to our family? To our friends? That fatass cracker strung our people up like pigs for slaughter and Fiona Goode let it happen! They ain't here to help us, they here to get the last of us and put us in the ground!"

"No that's what _you_ do!" Chinwee's ever-peaceful eyes flashed with sudden anger and his voice rose. "I'm tired, Marie! Just like the rest. And hell yeah, I'm scared! Your sister's right, you playin' with forces ain't meant to be touched. And if I gotta go to the people who let all those horrors happen in their house that's what I'm gonna do!"

"You already did it, didn't you?"

"Yes", he confessed. "Hank Foxx cornered me and I told him where you got your powers from. Maybe that witch you hate so much can save you. I sure as hell can't."

"You lyin', _schemin'_ -" She didn't get further because Damian woke with a frightened whine and began his wheezing screeches. "See what you did?" She snapped, knowing well enough that it was the boiling anger in her own chest that had woken her son. She waved Chinwee away, lost for words to say to him when she couldn't scream for fear of upsetting Damian.

It took hours to calm him down again, another to lull him back into sleep. She mixed some of the same sleeping potion she had given Cage Goode and gave her son half. The rest she saved. Her head hummed with exhaustion, but she couldn't stop now. She was exposed, vulnerable with that kind of crucial knowledge out there for her foes to grasp. She needed to secure herself, cut the witch off as she had before. Only it was too difficult to speak to her now. She had gotten too strong. Marie's grasp was slipping, her leash was weakening by her own sorrow and the unearthly strength that lingered in the Goode girl.

She would have to try another way.

Marie went to the cellars and took down the jar with Misty's name on. She had to scrape the bottom for dust now and she did so carefully. Just a few gravel was all she needed. She gathered the pile on the floor, licked her fingers and started chanting. Her voice came out foreign to her own ears, her tongue shaping around the words of the ancient language Papa Legba had granted her. And she told the gravel what she needed. Sweat broke on her forehead, but she wasn't done. She needed another potion and thankfully she had plenty of material. Chinwee's hair was everywhere, his blood was under Damian's fingernails and his breath in the very air. It would be child's play to create his dust. She needed him. If he wouldn't follow her on his own she would persuade him the only way she knew how.

The only way she had any power anymore.

Inside the chaos of her frantic potion making, Marie found a moment of serenity. This was her way now, this was what her soul was bound to do and so it found peace in creating this twisted magic. She could barely remember what life had been like before that. She had not had these powers for long in reality, but they felt so tethered to her soul that life before them felt like living done by someone else. It was someone else's smiling face she saw reflected in her memories. It was okay, she found, that she was not that person anymore. She was stronger now, more capable. She had been on Papa Legba's waiting list for years, trying to get into his good graces, never knowing how one pleases the lord of the underworld. Now she thought this gatekeeper of hell surely hated her. She had cheated his promise. He had taken her boy, told her she could keep nothing but the body, yet she had brought half of him back. Once she had dealt with this witch and her wretched family, she would be powerful enough to take on the demon in the top hat, himself. She would be strong enough to bend him to her will, make him give her son's soul back. Then he would be her boy again. And she would have a playmate ready for him.

When she was done at last, she put her braids back into the know they had loosened from and gathered her things from the table.

She found Chinwee in his own room, packing shirts and shoes into an old suitcase. Her steps inside the room made him turn and she did not give him time to react, before she blew the dust in his face. She watched his eyes flicker blindly and then lose their clarity as she entered his head.

The connection was so fresh now that she could see through his eyes. She could guide him with her will alone; no language needed. She held out the small dust bags for him and he took them. She saw him take it with her own eyes and through his as well, in her mind's eye. She was both in that moment, just as she had been herself and Misty at one point. She didn't have access to as many thoughts then, but she already knew Chinwee so well that navigating his mind would be like walking across a meadow on a sunny day. But she refrained; she had no need to search his thoughts, and she didn't want to intrude that way. She only needed his strong arms, his quick feet and his ability to leave the house.

She watched him make his way to the Goode mansion. Everything looked so different through his young eyes. Hers were tired from age and grief, but his were sharp and alert.

Marie moved back to her cellar, ready to assist if need be, as Chinwee moved around back and into the back yard of Fiona Goode's house. He peeked through windows to check for signs of movement, just as she had ordered him to. He was the sneaky one and she had ordered him to do this the way he knew how. There was no resistance. He moved to the porch with a smoothness Marie could never have matched and she watched it happen from the backseat of Chinwee's mind.

Inside the living room was only the witch and her son. Cage sat on the floor with his gaze fixed on a book and Misty sat beside him with her back turned to them.

Marie gripped the edge of the table as Chinwee moved in closer and reached into the little bag hanging around his neck. It happened fast then. Cage looked up at the same time the witch seemed to feel something was out of place. Chinwee bested her reflexes yet again, unfolded his hand and blew the rest of the dust into Misty's eyes. The Cajun witch snarled and her arms flailed about. Marie felt her presence again, the both of them there in that room and inside her head, but Chinwee was still far the stronger connection. She couldn't see through Misty's eyes as she had once, when the connection had just been made. There was too little powder left.

Cage crept into the corner, away from the scene and Misty moved to get in front of him.

 _Move back_ , Marie shouted at her. She felt her stir and through Chinwee's eyes she could see Misty flinch and freeze, but not for long. As soon as Chinwee put a hand around the little boy, Misty's eyes flashed with madness and with a furious roar, she broke out of the hold. She slammed into Chinwee and shoved him against the nearest wall. His vision blurred and disappeared shortly as the back of Chinwee's head collided with the wall.

"Fight it!" Misty screamed into Chinwee's face while his vision returned. "Fight her!"

Marie felt the pain from Chinwee's head, saw the fear in both their eyes. She felt the combined emotions of all three of them and her hands started to shake. She needed to intervene before the rush of adrenaline from three people overtook her heart. The flow of emotion threatened to make her head explode and she fumbled with frantic hands after the doll. She punctured the skin of her own fingers before she could direct them, but finally the hold on Chinwee released as Misty collapsed in screams.

She had to move fast now. If anyone else were in the house, they would come. She had not anticipated that Misty would break the connection that fast. She should not be able to. The amount of dust spent on her was enough to hum any same man into absolute madness, enough to weigh them down as though their muscles were solid rock. Yet the witch still had it in her to fight the needle and grasp Chinwee's foot. He kicked her off, snatched Cage up from the floor and fed him the sleeping potion with forgetful root from the other bag. The boy fell asleep as they made their way out of the house. Marie didn't dare stop until she registered the forest in the field of Chinwee's vision.

O0O

The sound of Papa Legba's last whisper still swooshed in her ears. The cold still stuck to her skin like a thin film of feverish sweat. And the dread, the all-consuming fear that Misty would go with him in that moment – this above all haunted her through the night and far into the following day. She had made it to work, just for half a day, if for nothing else then to keep up the pretense with her colleagues. Misty had stayed home, promised her she wasn't about to disappear into the underworld, not until they had talked. As if this was a discussion they could have, Cordelia thought to herself with incredulity. As though there was any way to decide someone's death like that. And Misty's at that. The mere thought… Cordelia shook it off and went through her pile of essays a little faster. It was not humanly possible to decide a thing like that and she would not dwell too much on it, because it made her sick. And her fourth graders really needed to know she wasn't giving up on them. Such a fragile age, those kids.

Her mind drifted again, but to the early afternoon of yesterday, when she and Misty had finally made up for good. It felt like it was for good, the way Misty had pulled her close, as if she needed Cordelia more than air. Cordelia knew such was the case for herself. Her sanity needed Misty like her body needed air. No amount of catastrophe could change that. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel Misty's warm hands on her skin and she relished in it the way she used to do it, back when they first fell in love as adults. Cordelia found that she was feeling particularly nostalgic these past few days. Or perhaps only since yesterday, when she could allow herself to remember how they used to be without pain.

The pile of done papers grew while the pile of papers yet to be graded shrunk, as Cordelia drifted into a more pleasant mindset. She worked well to the thought of Misty and her smile. Too much thought of her touches was terribly distracting, but her smile did wonders for Cordelia's productivity. As soon as she finished the essays she stashed them away, ready for handout tomorrow and made her way home. She thought she would cook tonight. Perhaps even make that carrot stew that Spalding enjoyed so much. He never ate with them, but whenever she made that he would be eager to take out their plates. Perhaps she would ever consider letting him join the table. He wasn't a butler out of contract anymore. It was more of a habit and, Cordelia thought, because he preferred the shadows. But perhaps it was only because no one had ever asked him. Except for Misty once or twice in their childhood.

She stopped at that thought, chuckled at the thought. Here she was, contemplating inviting a man she had despised all her childhood to dinner. At the moment she couldn't recall why she had disliked him so much. He never harmed her. She supposed his muteness made her uneasy, his intense gaze as well. These could be reasons enough to terrify a child, but she was a grown woman now. And Spalding had proved her friend on more than one occasion.

Cordelia pulled up into the driveway still preoccupied with these thoughts. For the same reason it took her a while longer to notice the taste in the air, something Misty would have caught at once. It wasn't until she turned the door handle on the front door and pushed it open that she felt it. A quiet house was rare with Misty and Cage living in it, but it wasn't just the quiet that set her off. It was the feeling of intrusion. Something uninvited had been here. Misty would say that she could smell it in the atmosphere, but to Cordelia it was a sense of cold in her chest.

"Misty?" She called out, hoping it was just her mind playing it usual mean tricks, but the lack of response rapidly convinced her otherwise. "Cage? Baby?"

The cold grew in her chest and the calm went out of her. She let go of her bag, barely heard the loud thump as it collided with the floor, and marched down to the living room.

"Misty!" All thoughts went out of her head, when she saw Misty lying unconscious on the floor in the middle of a mess of toys. She lay amidst the broken game like a fallen giant and Cordelia threw herself down on her knees next to her. Only when Cordelia shook her shoulders did Misty start to twitch.

"Delia, is that you?" She mumbled. Her voice was dazed, her eyes droopy as she fought herself back to consciousness. A blind hand grasped and Cordelia took it, felt the fear in Misty through the crushing grip on her fingers.

"I'm here, what happened?" Cordelia drew the hair out of Misty's face, touched her cheeks and forehead to feel for sickness – Misty had only ever felt feverish after Marie tried to take her over – all the while fighting to keep herself calm. "Talk to me, love."

"There was… I…" Misty started and then she stopped. And Cordelia watched as her eyes widened in horror and felt it as kin when Misty began to shake. Her eyes watered up and goosebumps rose on her skin. Cordelia wasn't truly scared until the moment she saw the naked fear pour out of Misty's body through every possible canal.

"She took him", Misty whispered with a quivering voice and Cordelia went cold to the core. Misty looked to her with eyes full of terror and shame. "She used Chinwee and she took him. I almost had him, but she used the needles and I- I think I passed out. I'm so sorry, Delia, I couldn't protect him." Misty started sobbing and Cordelia pulled her in.

"It's not your fault, love", she said. There was a time where she might have found it fitting to blame Misty, but she knew Misty would die to protect him, had she not been so thoroughly controlled. It wasn't even fitting to blame Marie, not the sane part of her anyway. It was the psychotic shadow of a grieving mother that had taken her son and she would see an end to it now. This was one step too far.

Cordelia shushed Misty gently and pulled her up sitting.

"She won't hurt him", Misty said. She didn't say this to excuse her losing him, Cordelia thought, but because she knew it was so. In truth so did Cordelia, but that wasn't the problem. "She won't hurt him-"

"But her son might. By accident or not."

Misty nodded wordlessly and dried her eyes. Cordelia stood up and took a deep breath. The cold in her chest transformed as she rose, evolved into something useful. She felt only cold determination to end the war that had started with her mother. Fiona Goode was buried now and so her troubles should be put to rest in the ground with her.

"I'm so sorry, Delia", Misty said again and Cordelia bend down to her again. Repeated her words. She ran a hand through Misty's hair and suddenly there was red in her blonde curls.

"You're hurt", Cordelia said, surprising herself with the calm of her own voice. The cold took another twisting surge in the pit of her stomach, but on the outside she remained calm and she felt remarkably clearheaded.

Misty followed her hand, but her fingers came away dry. It had seemingly healed some already. "Must be from when I fell. I hit my head on the tracks I think. It's fine, it'll heal."

"Are you sure?"

Misty nodded. At that moment the front door opened and light, hasty steps made themselves heard. Seconds later, Spalding came in with an urgent look on his face.

"Where were you?" Cordelia asked, knowing he couldn't possibly answer that, but she didn't have enough mental resources to fight the old habit now. Spalding cast a quick, apologetic glance at her and then turned to Misty. He had been cold towards her ever since the death of Fiona, but he also knew, Cordelia thought, that Misty understood him better.

"You went after him, didn't you?" Misty asked, confirming Cordelia's assumption. Spalding nodded. "Did she take him back to her house?" Spalding nodded again. "Where?"

Cordelia thought he would be at a loss here; at least he would have been if _she_ had asked, but he and Misty used to play guessing games all the time when she was a kid – after he stopped being frightened by her that was.

Now, Spalding kneeled and put his hand on the floor, palm down. He looked at Misty and then he flipped his hand around.

"She's in her basement." Spalding nodded a third time and Cordelia silently thanked their childhood pastimes for providing this understanding between the two feral people in the room with her.

"Did she use a jar on him? The dust? Did you see?" Spalding shook his head first and then nodded. Cordelia had to admire Spalding for thinking quick on his feet. It occurred to her that she had perhaps always underestimated him, simply because he was withdrawn and mute. She regretted that mistake now.

Then Spalding did something that snapped her out of her thoughts. He pointed straight at her, his eyes wide with terror.

"What is it?" She asked, another useless question.

Spalding formed a something with his hands.

"She has a jar of Cordelia?" To Cordelia's dread, Spalding nodded again.

"But she never… She never controlled me. Misty, she didn't." The last she said directly to Misty, as if she could somehow make Cordelia's confused mind clearer.

"I never saw a jar, when I was there. Was it empty?" Spalding gave another nod. "Then she must have used it. But for-" Misty abruptly stopped talking, stared into space for a few seconds, before looking at Cordelia. "Delia, your dreams." Cold ran down Cordelia's spine now. She knew Misty was right. Suddenly she felt invaded, violated and exposed. Within a heartbeat she tasted just an ounce of the horror Misty must feel to have that presence in her thoughts, something powerful enough to steer her body, control her mind, to alter dreams.

Cordelia couldn't speak. The only thing she could think to do was to put her hands on Misty's cheeks.

"Darlin' it's okay. She's got no more. You're safe." Misty misunderstood for once. The sudden miserable look on Cordelia's face, the urge in her touch, it wasn't for herself. But she didn't have words to say it. She would some other time. Now the anger came rushing back, the fury spawned from all the pain this insane woman had caused them. She rose to her feet again, pulled Misty with her. The soft expression on Misty's face changed as well.

"This has to stop now", Cordelia said and Misty nodded. Behind the gleam of the remaining tears, Cordelia saw the same cold determination in her. They both knew what had to be done now. Only Misty couldn't pull the weight for them both any longer. Cordelia took the lead.

"Misty, go wake up Kyle, and I'll call Zoe. Spalding, will you come with us or would you rather stay?"

Spalding straightened his old suit and pointed at the door. Cordelia nodded.

"Let's go get our son back."


	24. Chapter 24

"Delia, _talk_ to me."

The fright in Misty's voice shouldn't have been able to pierce her thoughts the way it did. Cordelia was filled to the breaking point with terror already. Her was head stuffed with images of her little boy stuck in that house, locked in a cellar or fleeing from the deranged half-dead child in there with him, packed with the berating voices of just what kind of mother she was to let her child be taken so easily and just bursting with incoherent fear. The blazing determination to end this war now and take her son back, come hell or high water, was what had made her walk straight out of the front door, but with every few steps, it was the fear that carried her. It was so deep-rooted and so thick that there shouldn't have been room for anything else.

Yet Misty's fear, a fear that at this exact moment had nothing to do with their son, still poked through.

Cordelia didn't answer. She only kept walking. They had taken the car as far as Marie's territory, but left it at the perimeter. They couldn't just pull up in it or she would know something was wrong.

All of them followed Cordelia now, the whole oddly shaped group: The mute butler, the adopted youngster, the ghost of a frat boy, the wild child and then the schoolteacher. Cordelia was still stunned that she found herself at the front of the group, leading it. It should have been Misty, but it was her. Misty wasn't one for leading people. But she would have to, soon enough.

"Are you gonna do what I think you're doing?" Cordelia didn't answer right away, only briefly looked at Misty, before shooting her gaze back at the path they were walking, making sure she went the right way. They would have to get close before calling on Papa Legba, because once he withdrew Marie Laveau's powers, that child of hers had no lullaby left. Misty had explained how Marie could keep him calm, but if just some of that was her voodoo powers and not the love of a mother, Cordelia could risk being too far from Cage.

"We are running out of time, Misty-" Cordelia started to say, but Misty cut her off, her voice so shrill with panic that Cordelia saw Zoe jump out of the corner of her eye.

" _Don't you dare_!" Misty took three large steps and put herself in Cordelia's path, forcing her to stop. "You wanted to talk 'bout this, when I made the connection last, so don't you _dare_ just sacrifice yourself without givin' me a chance to talk you outta it!"

There were tears in Misty's eyes. She was wild with fear, she must be or she would never behave like this out in the open, where others could see her. Vulnerability practically shone from her eyes. Cordelia felt her throat close up. She couldn't get the words past her tongue to say the things she needed, so put a hand on either side of Misty's face. She tried the best way she could to communicate her meaning through gaze only, but it was too complicated to explain. She reached down and took Misty's hand, squeezed it and pulled Misty with as she started to walk again.

"Give me a minute", Cordelia said to her.

"You ain't got more than that. Her house is right 'round the next block."

Cordelia gave no answer to that, only walked silently with Misty's hand warm in hers. Misty always had warm hands, dry hands as well, but there was a hint of moisture to her palm now. The feverish terror bursting through her skin made Cordelia want to sink to the ground and cry for help, but it also made her stronger somehow. It made her realize that for once she was the clear head. And she needed to be. She saw also how Misty's behavior changed the closer they got. She slouched more, ran her free hand through her hair more, made a soundless snarl the way she did when she felt backed up into a corner. Yet she kept on walking, kept holding Cordelia's hand so she wouldn't run off and offer her soul to Papa Legba. But Cordelia would do so either way.

They walked in silence the rest of the way, Misty and Cordelia in the front, linked by hand, Zoe and Kyle in the middle and Spalding at the rear. Cordelia thought to herself that they must look strange, walking with that urgency and that darkness surrounding them – because surely these feelings that eluted from them all must transform to a vast mist of darkness around the group, even on this bright evening. It sure felt that way.

When they came close enough to gain sighting of the house, Misty and Kyle both started to twitch with unease. It was almost on key with the moment they turned the corner. If nothing else, it only convinced Cordelia more that they needed to do this. That _she_ needed to do this.

They found an alley as close to the house as they dared get. Cordelia started to mentally prepare herself, when Misty stepped in front of her again.

"Now explain why you're doing this." She said it with calm this time. The panic had left her voice, despite the vague quiver. She was still afraid, that much was obvious, but she had also realized that this was her last chance and she would not take it with yelling. Cordelia saw this in her gaze and loved her for it.

"I can't function without you", she told her lover. She picked Misty's hands up, kissed them and held them to her lips for a moment, before she went on: "I've proven that many times over throughout my life. You are the reason I've learned to deal with the whispers, yours is the voice I search for instead. I can't function without you, but you can without me. You have the strength. And you have sacrificed so much for me. Let me do this. I want _you_ to take care of Cage. You're the better one of the two of us."

The rest of the group caught up slowly, but kept their distance. Cordelia barely registered their presence. She saw only Misty and the streaming line of tears on her face. She felt her hands shake against her mouth.

"It's not true", Misty said. Her voice trembled and it made her sound like a little girl. At the same time there was strength in it, the same determination Cordelia had seen back at the house, the same determination she had spoken with a moment ago. "I…" Misty dropped her gaze briefly, then looked up again and started to explain the hole she had felt in her chest when she had thought they were over. "I can't spent forever not breathin' right 'cause you're gone. And I didn't much function then. But that ain't the most important thing. Thing is, I love that boy." Misty sniffled once and smiled, mostly to herself. "I love him almost as much as I love you, but that's the difference. You put him first. And that's okay, baby, you should. But it means _you_ gotta stay. I can be a mama to him, but you carried him. That means somethin'."

Cordelia was no stranger to the concept of how much love can hurt, even the good kind, but in that moment, she abandoned everything she knew. Nothing had ever hurt as much as the truth Misty had just spoken. In that moment she selfishly shot a glance around the group, too ashamed to linger on any of the faces, but hoping someone else would save her from this choice. No one answered, they remained statues in a half circle around them, close enough to have their faces read. Zoe was crying, but the men remained motionless. Spalding had taken on a new sort of blank attitude. He looked far away in thought.

"We needa call him", Misty said, bringing Cordelia back into the pain of their farewell.

"But we haven't decided yet."

"We'll know, once he's here."

Cordelia nodded and felt the tears finally leave her eyes. It was unusual, the fact that she was the last of them to cry and it was as if those tears were the catalyst to move on. Misty broke the space between them and swept Cordelia into a deep kiss laced with the white-hot intensity of that hurt she felt before. But as that burned away it was only the love that was left. They knew this and they whispered it into each other's faces. They wiped each other's tears from their cheeks and Misty nodded. She was ready.

She stepped into the middle, her hand still locked in Cordelia's and began staring into space. The seconds crept on and Cordelia kept waiting for the cold to consume her, kept expecting to see those cold, red eyes as Misty began to tremble.

Nothing happened.

Misty gagged and then stepped back.

"I… I can't", she said in a strained voice. She looked back to Cordelia regret and relief swimming in her eyes all at once. She ran a frantic hand through her hair. "She won't let me. She did somethin'…"

"Wait, so we can't contact him? Then how are we…" Zoe trailed off, looked from one woman to the other. Cordelia hadn't given up yet. Because she knew something that the rest didn't, something she had hoped she wouldn't need to explore because she was afraid. But perhaps it was better like that.

"Misty is not the only one who has ever made contact", Cordelia said in a flat voice. In her mind she travelled back to that night she always forced herself to avoid thinking of. That moment in which she had held Misty's cold, dead hand and looked down to find the Gatekeeper to the underworld smiling at her. Inviting her.

The truth of it dawned Misty then. Cordelia could see the memory flash in her eyes as they widened. Misty grabbed herself by the hair again with her free hand, tore at it almost subconsciously it seemed. She didn't speak, but her eyes pleaded for the last time to not leave her. Cordelia squeezed her hand and then took her place in the middle of the circle.

She had never done anything remotely as spiritual as this. It felt odd to her at first, like saying a prayer to God, when she didn't really believe one existed. Like calling out to some abstract, faceless existence.

Except Papa Legba wasn't faceless to her and that helped. She did not possesses the same ability to enter a trance as Misty did, so instead she just stared into space and pictured his face. Suddenly the alley swam with greyish-black colors and there in the middle of it, stood he. The cold floated from the hole in Cordelia's reality, in and out of that world which he had once invited her into.

Papa Legba wasted no time with greetings. "Has the choice been made?" He asked with his coarse, drawling voice. It seemed to possess a cold in its own, a cold that didn't travel in the air, but spawned directly in Cordelia's chest. Papa Legba looked between the two of them. "I shall gladly take the set."

That snapped Cordelia into awareness again.

"You won't. You can hav-" She didn't get any further, because just then a foreign hand touched her shoulder and she turned. The hand wasn't foreign after all, had only felt so in the tiny world of her and Misty, but belonged to Spalding. The blankness had gone out of his features and for once Cordelia understood him perfectly clear. She knew his intentions even before he pushed her aside, her and Misty both.

"Spalding, I…" She held her tongue for just a moment to absorb his offer and in the meantime a look passed between him and Misty. Spalding no longer looked at Misty with anger. "I can't let you do that for us", Cordelia said at last.

"It's okay, Delia", Misty said, still looking Spalding straight in the eye. Her gaze was soft, teary, and her voice was full of gratitude and relief. "He wants to help. He doesn't wanna be here no more."

Spalding passed one last look at Cordelia and gave her a nod. She gave one back and whispered "Thank you." He smiled and turned away from her. Cordelia hadn't thought that Spalding had ever been contacted by Papa Legba, but in that moment it seemed the only one who couldn't see him was Zoe. She stared into space a little to his left, all the while clutching a silent Kyle's hand.

Spalding stared at Papa Legba for a long second and then the Gatekeeper nodded.

"Yes", he said. "I can reunite you. I accept your offer."

 _Go be with my mother, Spalding_ , Cordelia thought, perhaps she even whispered it in hopes it would resolve a bit of her guilty relief. A second later, Spalding's thin body collapsed onto the ground. It was so withered and light that it barely made a sound, but Cordelia thought she felt her insides drop with him and tears sprung to her eyes again.

Beside her Misty collapsed as well, but in a gasp of pure relief and closely followed by laughter of disbelief.

"The hum, it's gone", she cried as new tears well up in her eyes as well. She laughed again. "She's out."

Cordelia crouched down beside her, unable to speak and pulled her in. Misty half laughed, half cried in her arms, but no one said anything. Zoe and Kyle came close and for a moment, they all looked down at the mute butler. He looked back at them, but his eyes saw nothing of this world anymore.

O0O

Marie was with Damian and Cage when it happened. Chinwee had seen them come towards the grounds, but by the time he could tell her what they were up to, it was too late. Even if she still had him under control, even if he had found it in his heart to warn her instead of running away, she couldn't have stopped it. It was done.

It felt like a cancer going through her, eating away her power, her invulnerability. All of it done in a second. A course of disease so rapid it could only be unearthly. The doing of Papa Legba. She thought she heard him laugh in her head before she turned cold and weak and mortal.

At first she didn't understand; she had prevented the Goode-girl. It must be that she had underestimated the connections of some of the other ones. As she sank to the floor, powerless and confused, she looked from one boy to the other, trying to determine which one scared her the most. The boy who was supposed to be her savior, whose family would come in at any second and strip her of pride, family and home or the boy who was her heart, the one who now looked at her with a terror so deep she thought it might just kill her. She no longer possessed the ability to calm him. Too much of him was dead and not enough alive for a mortal mother. She saw that now.

Damian started screaming.

The horror of his screeching threatened to burst her eardrums. But it was the ravenous look on his face that caused her to move. It took her one second too long to realize that her son was attacking her and she didn't move away before he put his claws in her. Marie cried out and wrenched away from the tiny death grip. Damian lunged again, but this time Marie jumped out of reach. The screams from Damian's throat made her mind all kinds of fuzzy and the tears, she hadn't realized she was crying, were blinding her.

In the corner, Cage started to cry and it made Marie snap into focus. The same happened to Damian. There was a second in which both of them lost focus on each other, and turned their attention to the foreign boy instead. Then time became a race. Marie still had advantage of size by far and she grabbed the little, blonde boy and pulled him out of reach, before Damian and his bloodstained, clawing hands could take him. Marie then ran to the door, Cage Goode under one arm, and escaped into the hall. She slammed the door behind her and staggered into the kitchen a couple of doors down. Cage had gone almost silent in her arms. There was no extraterrestrial power in her now, to tell him to keep quiet. It was the utter terror of the situation that had reduced his crying to a muted whimper. His little hands clung to her shirt, his whole body curled around her like a koala and the acknowledgement made her want to throw the boy across the room. But she couldn't do that. She had never meant to harm him. There was one scratch on his arm from an early attempt at introduction, but she had stopped that before Damian could do any real damage. That was only hours ago, when she still had the ability to do so.

For a few minutes she sat still on the floor of the kitchen, the boy still clutched to her chest, and listened for the sound of Damian behind the door. He was making his wheezing cries and scratching the door, but he wasn't tall enough to reach the handle.

Then something else caught Marie's attention; the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming up the isle outside.

 _Not Damian_. She couldn't think anything else. _Not_ Damian. The witch would take him and she couldn't let her, not her boy. The terror she felt for her son – _because_ of her son, was nothing compared to the thought of losing this last piece of him. She put Cage Goode down without much thought and the frozen silent boy couldn't stop her track of thoughts even if he had had a voice left. She went around the counter and into the drawers. Needles would no longer do, so she had to think bigger. The large kitchen knife would do.

She felt odd with the knife in hand. Strangely mortal, yet powerful in a new way. The idea of bringing Papa Legba to his knees and demanding he returned Damian's soul had gone like sand through her fingers, but she could still bend her human enemy. The witch was not invincible. Chinwee had drawn blood, so she knew it could be done.

With a solid grip on the knife, Marie moved back around the counter, just as the handle on the front door began to rattle. She grabbed Cage Goode by the collar of his shirt and dragged him backwards. He began to whimper, but she shushed him.

"Quiet boy", she hissed and he obeyed. He was good like that, she had noticed. He wouldn't ever be her boy, but he was a good kid. She meant to drag him out of harm's way. She put the knife down on the floor just long enough to bind the boy to Damian's old baby seat. He wasn't a big boy like Damian, but he just barely fit the chair. It would do, until it was over.

The door finally opened, the intruders stepped in and Marie picked the knife up again.

"Marie?" It was the witch. Damian started shrieking at the sound of the stranger – or perhaps it was that he recognized this particular voice – and clawed at the door.

 _That's good, baby, get their attention_ , Marie thought. It would make it easier for her to attack.

Hesitant steps continued down the hall towards them, one pair of feet, maybe two. Marie couldn't tell. She didn't dwell on counting. It didn't matter in the end.

O0O

Misty was the first to enter the house. She moved swiftly and energized through the doorway, ready to take on whatever may come. Her head was clear. It felt just like the air did after a rare, solid rain had cleansed it of dust. She could breathe right again, she could think her own thoughts. She could choose her own emotion. And she was furious.

Cordelia was the next one through. Her cleansing had come earlier and in a different form than Misty's, but she was just as ready to fight through hell to get their son. Her fury might be there, but it was well kept under a cool expression of calculated calm. This had come with her cleansing, amplified after Spalding's sacrifice and it radiated from her.

Kyle and Zoe came in last. At first Kyle had resisted, but Misty thought perhaps the change in her had rubbed off on him, because he seemed less scared to enter as soon as she stepped over the threshold. Misty saw this in the periphery of her vision – her gaze was focused ahead, searching.

She couldn't feel Laveau's presence anymore, the way she had been able to before. The connection had broken clean and there wasn't so much as an imprint of her in Misty's mind, but Misty had always tracked by smell. The smell of fear in the air, the stuffiness that came with it, but most of all the actual scent of Marie Laveau; she had grown familiar with that during her captivity and it came back to her now. The scent was strong; the sweat of terror hung in the air. Misty made a right as soon as she stepped through the door. She knew they had gone this way.

"Marie?" Misty called. Her voice shook with anger. She meant for the fallen Voodoo Queen to know that the tides had changed. She would not be cornered this time.

To their right a muffled, childish screaming started. Cordelia gasped with surprise, but Misty recognized the voice at once. Damian's pain called to her so strong that she lost track of her feet. There it was again. It had been so heavily suppressed that the calling felt alien to her. But she could not forget the voice of her siren. The begging for her to fix a wound, the pleading for relief. It tore at her and the magnitude of it sent her into a trance stronger than she could ever remember being in. She moved towards it, put a hand to the handle and turned the knob, all the while ignoring the voices of protest behind her.

Damian Laveau came flying out as soon as she opened.

He reached Misty first, buried his teeth and claws in the flesh of her arm and tore, shrieking as he did so. It only lasted a few seconds, until the power of resurrection rushed under Misty's skin towards the point of contact. Misty felt the sickness in the little boy for only a fraction of a second before he unlatched and dumped to the floor, dazed and terrified. His good eye was wide as it stared at her and there was suddenly a wordless prayer in it. But the sickness stole her focus nonetheless.

"Misty!"

Misty turned only in time to see the flash of steel and lift her already injured arm for protection, before Laveau was on her, knife in hand. It went straight through Misty's forearm and she screamed out in agony. She caught the glaze of insanity in Marie Laveau's frantic eyes, just before she pulled the knife out, ready to stab again.

" _Don't_!" Cordelia screamed and ran herself into Laveau, before she could stab Misty again. The force of the impact sent Misty staggering backwards and she lost focus on the fight. Marie yelled in surprise, hissed and slashed at Cordelia instead, who cried out again, louder. Warm droplets hit Misty's face and her stomach turned cold. The world became a chaotic mess of limbs as everyone moved at once. Misty felt herself being pushed back against the wall, momentarily blinded by pain, bodies and her own hair. She heard Laveau scream out in anger, Kyle grunt with strain and suddenly the crying of her son. She couldn't locate him, but she could hear him crying somewhere close nearby.

"Baby! Cage, stay where you are!" Misty felt a surge of relief at Cordelia's strong voice. It trembled, it sounded pained and scared, but it was full of life. Misty pinned herself to the wall and regained focus.

The first thing she spotted was Cordelia, running towards the sound of Cage's crying. She held onto her right forearm with her left hand and blood ran through her fingers. She went into the kitchen and disappeared from view, but her cry of relief was unmistakable.

Misty looked around to find that Kyle had grabbed Laveau and now held her in a half nelson. He looked sick with discomfort of being so close to the woman who created him, but he held her in place. His gaze was fixed, not on her, but on his child counterpart in the doorway just behind Misty. Damian still sat on the floor, dazed and wavering. He did nothing but stare at Misty with a hiss on his little face.

When she looked back at Kyle, she now found him staring directly at her. When he had her attention, he cast one glance at the half-dead boy and then looked back at Misty. "Not the same", he said. Misty understood.

"No, you're not the same. He can't do it no more."

"No!" Marie screamed and fought against Kyle's unyielding grip. "Not my baby! Don't you touch him, you filthy witch!"

"He needs peace", Misty said in a ghostly calm voice. The trance had already taken her again. "He's hurting."

"Do it." It was Kyle, who said it. Their eyes met and it was the clearest Misty had seen him since his death. She nodded and crouched in front of the child.

Damian flinched away from her, but when Misty finally got a chance to look the boy in the eye, she saw that prayer again. The boy was just as hostile as Kyle was at first, if not more so, but there was an earnest pleading for peace in his eyes, somewhere behind the flash of hate.

"Look away, Marie", Misty said and put her hands to her child. The rush of whatever her power truly was made her nauseous for a moment. This was the deepest, most grievous wound she had ever encountered and in some ways it felt much worse than putting her hands to Hank's corpse. Because she wasn't giving away this time. She was taking in. She was taking the death-like, twisted half-living out of a little boy and pouring it into herself. She thought for a moment if she could give him a right kind of life when she was done taking, but the more she took, the more sure she became that there would be nothing left of Damian, even if she had had the strength to give. The voodoo spell was a Band-Aid over a crushed bone and as she dissolved the Band-Aid, the body fell apart. He would be nothing but a shell. When his body finally gave up and he sunk onto his back, Misty knew he would never get up again.

The cloud of dizziness began to evaporate from her head and the nausea dissolved little by little. Sounds started to poke through the trance and Misty had expected to feel cold, like she had done before, but instead she felt hot, unbearably so. It burned under her skin and in her very core. Her whole body hurt and she trembled. She could hear it in her own breathing, but she couldn't feel anything but that burning sensation.

A cool hand touched her back and Misty recognized it. She let go of Damian and let herself fall back into the waiting embrace. Cordelia's arms closed around her and pulled her in.

"You did it, love. It's okay. You can rest now." It wasn't until Cordelia stroked her cheek that Misty realized she was crying. She wanted to say that it couldn't all be over yet, because they were still in her captors house, but she had no energy. Instead she focused on the cool of Cordelia's touch and the knowledge that the heat was slowly fading.

The voice of Marie Laveau came back into focus – and Misty thought perhaps she had been screaming this whole time, only outside Misty's field of focus – when she roared with the fury of a mother, who have lost, and made one last attempt at wrestling herself out of Kyle's grasp. Misty turned her head in time to see her succeed. Kyle appeared to have lost himself in the scene, because his eyes were focused south of Misty's hands and it must have loosened his grip. Now he snapped back into focus and grasped for Laveau. He wasn't as fast anymore and Marie escaped him. In a split second, hers and Misty's gaze locked. Then Marie ran.

Kyle exclaimed a feral roar and bolted after her. Misty's eyes snapped to his and she found no recognition. For a moment, the creature of Kyle had taken over again. What he lacked in agility he made up for in brute strength and one tiny hold on Marie was enough. He slammed her into the wall and his fist flew to her throat.

"No mom! No mom!" Kyle yelled. Neither Misty nor Cordelia understood this, but Zoe clearly did, because she came flying into view, put Cage down beside the two women and stepped close to Kyle.

"It's okay, Kyle. She can't hurt you anymore. Don't kill her,, please."

For a moment everyone stared at the scene. None of them matched the shock on Marie's face. The look on her face spoke of disbelief. As if she couldn't quite fathom what Zoe was saying.

"You wanted to bury me, girl. Go on then", Marie spat.

Zoe ignored her and kept her eyes on Kyle.

"Let her go. Let it all go, Kyle and I will too. We can start over. We're tired of being angry, aren't we?"

Kyle grunted. His waxy knuckles turned a shade paler, the bones stood out. Marie started gagging.

Then Kyle loosened his grip and Marie stumbled towards the door. She regained her footing and flew out of the doorway. Kyle snapped into pursuit and Zoe followed. In a second, the hallways was empty except for Zoe's fading calls.

Misty found herself hoping Kyle wouldn't catch her. The anger had left with the fever and she would gain nothing more from this fight. The Voodoo Queen had fallen and she couldn't hurt them anymore.

"Mama?" Cage spoke for the first time since their arrival. His voice was full of terror and his eyes frantically searched her face. Misty forced herself to smile and lift a hand to ruffle his hair. It was damp against her fingers.

"I'm okay, baby boy. Are you okay?" He gave her a timid nod and looked at Cordelia. Misty could feel her move as she made room for Cage to crawl into her embrace.

"Does it hurt anywhere, love?" Cordelia asked him. Misty couldn't see him shake his head, but she didn't need to. For one because she had always been certain that Marie wouldn't physically hurt him and she had kept that promise in keeping the boys separated. But more convincingly, Misty could _feel_ that he was just fine. Her ability was back at full force and she relished in feeling whole again.

"What about you?" Cordelia whispered in her ear. It was the first warmth that felt good. Misty took a moment to feel her body and found that most had faded now. Even the pain from her forearm, though it would take a while to heal, with all this dead inside her.

The only thing that really hurt was the sight of the dead boy in front of her.

"I'm okay", she said again and proved it by lifting herself up. She got to her feet and walked over Damian and into his room. On his bed was a small blanket that she picked up and used to wrap the little body in.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Cage asked and Cordelia told him yes. "He was very scared all the time", Cage added and none of them said anything to that. Cordelia hugged him closer and shot Misty a glance over his head. _We did it_ , the look said and then she looked at the wrapped bundle in Misty's arms. _But at what cost_.

"It's better this way", Misty said. "For everyone."

Cordelia nodded and the conversation stopped there. Misty meant to bury the body later, but for now she put him on the bed. She went back to her family on the floor and sat down in front of them. She leaned her forehead against Cordelia's and so they sat, until Kyle and Zoe returned her.

"We didn't catch her", Zoe said, once they were inside. Kyle said nothing, but his gaze was calm. Misty couldn't tell if he was relieved or disappointed.

"Good", was all Misty said. She looked up at them and saw Zoe fidgeting with her sleeves. It made Misty remember what she had seen there. "Zoe, come over here."

Zoe looked surprised, hesitant for a moment, but then she stepped over.

"I couldn't help you before, but now I can." Misty got up and made a move to roll up Zoe's sleeves, but shot her an asking glance first. She had momentarily forgotten that it wasn't Cordelia she was communicating with, but Zoe seemed to understand, because she nodded.

Misty pulled up Zoe's sleeves and exposed the small landscape of white scars. She could tell just by look and feel that there weren't as deep as some of Cordelia's had been. These would not take much out of her and so despite her exhaustion, Misty placed her hand over Zoe's arm.

Kyle grunted with unease, but he didn't move, only stared at Zoe. Zoe herself gasped as the warmth started to flow. For a few unpleasant seconds, Misty's skin felt both hot and cold, but then it passed and she moved to the other arm. When she was done, Zoe's skin was smooth and untouched and her eyes were the size of teacups.

"Wow… Wow, that's…" She looked up at Misty with a big smile. "It's like they were never there. That was amazing!"

Misty smiled and tried to hide that she felt faint. "Just be good to yourself from now on, 'kay?"

Zoe's smile faded a bit and her eyes became serious. "Yeah, I'll do better." She turned to Kyle and smiled at him. He smiled back and looked at Misty. His gaze was almost friendly.

"Zoe, will you take Cage and Kyle and wait for us outside?" Cordelia asked from behind them. Misty hadn't heard her get up.

"Yeah, sure", she said and took Cage's hand. She winked at their boy and it cheered him up a bit. Misty hoped he wouldn't remember too much of this day.

Once the three of them were out of the door, Misty felt a hand on her waist and she let herself be guided until she was brought face to face with Cordelia again. Finally alone, Misty breathed an exhausted sigh and brought her forehead to Cordelia's again. She saw the cut on Cordelia's arm as she looked down and without thinking, she took the arm between her two hands and sealed the skin. Cordelia hummed at the warmth and folded her arms around Misty's waist to support her after this last donation of energy. They stood in silence for a moment.

"We should join the others", Misty said, though not wanting to move at all.

"In a minute", Cordelia said and brushed a thumb against Misty's cheek. "I'm just giving you a moment to recover."

"Did you notice?" Misty asked. "You did it. You saved us all and no one had to help you. 'Cause no one could. You proved that thing you were so scared of."

Misty moved her head to look at Cordelia's face. She found her smiling and thought to herself that she looked older and younger at the same time. As if her soul had aged with experience from everything that had happened, but the energy of her body had been renewed. A rebirth of the little girl in the woods. She finally grew up. Misty didn't think she would get lost anymore.

"Yes, I did notice", Cordelia said. She leaned in and gave Misty a kiss. "Let's go home."

* * *

 **A/N: This is it, you guys! I plan to post an epilogue in some weeks (expect a month), after I've handed my thesis in, but that's all that's left. I hope you liked it. Thank you so much for having the patience to stick it out until the end and for reading in the first place. I would love to know what you think!**


	25. Chapter 25: Epilogue

**A/N: Here it is at long last, the epilogue. Sorry for the long wait, a whole number of things came in the way, what with finishing at the university and all. But it is here and I hope you enjoy the very last chapter of my little foxxay series. I sure had a blast writing it and I'm going to miss these two. Merry Christmas to all!**

* * *

Misty had had her very first influenza in the weeks after putting Damian to rest. In truth, it wasn't the flu at all, but when she told Cordelia how she felt, she was told that that was what the flu felt like. So if anyone asked, Misty had the flu. Only the habitants of the Goode mansion knew better.

Now, sitting in the summer heat twelve years later, Misty found herself thinking back. There was nothing special about the day, except it was exceptionally hot and sitting in the sun all day made her feel a heat she could almost compare to the fever. Despite that, she didn't move, because this was a natural heat, and nothing natural had ever bothered Misty Day.

Behind her, the door to the porch opened and she could hear his footsteps across the wooden terrace and then through the grass. She turned to find him walking straight to her, still in his school uniform.

"Hey pup, how was school?"

"Ma, didn't I tell you to stop callin' me that?" He said with a grin on his face. He had complained that it felt like being babied, but Misty knew that he secretly liked it.

"No, you told me not to call you baby boy. Though you're still a baby boy to me."

He shook his head and gave her a look. He looked so much like Cordelia when he did that. The same blonde hair, the same strange but fascinating eyes and the same look of exasperation. "School was fine. I'm not sure I did so well on the biology test though…"

"I'm sure you did great. And you're always good at biology. You're smart like your mom."

"I'm a lot of things like mom, aren't I?" He said and Misty gave him a look. There was an underbelly to his remark that made it not rhetorical and Misty waited for him to explain, but he didn't. Instead he sighed and stared into space.

"What's worryin' you?" Misty asked then. Cage met her gaze, but the hesitance shone in his eyes like a fading flame. The unease was suddenly tangible and Misty turned to face him. Finally, he caved.

"I was thinkin' about mom's illness and… I've read up on it and so they say that these conditions are often inherited by the children and you how I sometimes get really anxious about tests and the future and I get in a really dark mood-"

"You don't have it", Misty said. Cage's eyes widened a bit and he opened his mouth to speak again, but Misty was quicker. "Not like you mom anyway. Pup, I've known her since she was nine and even though I didn't know what any of it meant I always saw the signs. I'm sure the books are right, but that don't mean your mind's exactly the same, right? Everyone has dark moods and you and your mom are two very different people."

"But you always say we're so alike."

Misty smiled. This was especially true when they worried. Which they both did a lot and it always became Misty's place to talk them down. They could sometimes coil each other up just by thinking in the same room and the atmosphere would be thick with it, when Misty came in. And then she would bring them both into the sun and that usually helped. "Yeah I do. But you're also very different and have very different ways of growin' up. Cage, do you hear anythin' you're not supposed to hear?"

He looked at her for a long second. Then shook his head. "No. But that don't mean I won't someday."

"True", Misty admitted. "But you also know that ain't the end of the world if you do. Look at your mom, she's doing fine, ain't she?" Ever since Marie Laveau disappeared from their lives and Hank moved back up state, Cordelia had had little trouble from her demons. In times of stress, they would surface, but she knew how to handle them, oftentimes without Misty's help. Cage was a perceptive child and had been so throughout his entire childhood, but after their lives calmed down, he had been less and less aware of his mother's mental instability. Misty knew he still carried imprints of the time when he was four and all those troubles happened, but they were watermarks in his brain, not solid memories. He would sometimes ask and Misty told him the truth – much to Cordelia's concern – but in less graphic detail and finally he stopped asking. He seemed to have made his peace. And so had Cordelia.

Cage nodded now. "Yeah, she is. I'll try not to worry, 'kay?" He smiled and then added: "But maybe don't tell mom I said this? I don't like secrets, but it might just worry her, you know?"

"Yeah I know."

There was a silence for a while, and the air around Cage calmed again. When he asked: "So how's the flower nursery?" Misty knew he had let the troubles go for now.

"It's fine", she answered. "Slow business these days though. Zoe's over there now doing the numbers for this month." To Misty's luck, Zoe had agreed to be her accountant while she looked for a full time job in the city. They all claimed it was temporary, because Cordelia and Misty agreed that Zoe shouldn't waste her fancy education on a suburban shop like Misty's, but at the same time it felt like Zoe was a part of the family business.

"Yeah", Cage said with a laugh. "You ain't so great with the numbers, but I've never seen anyone keep flowers alive like you. You're like a dryad."

"I don't know what that is, pup."

"A _dryad_ , c'mon ma, I explained this to you last month! If you'd only let me teach you all the rules."

"Cage, I ain't gonna play this paper pen game with you."

"It's called 'Pen and Paper' and you should! You got the mind for it. Mom and Aunt Zoe get bored so quickly and Kyle knocks the table over when the dice don't roll him favors."

"You know Kyle doesn't have that kind of patience." While Kyle had done a remarkable improvement in humanity and all it's corky features, patience would never be his strong suit. Zoe had said that it wasn't much his strong suit before either. She rarely spoke of the before now. Somewhere down the line, she had learned to accept that all he would ever gain from his before had been achieved. It was enough for him to fool the living. He could help Misty in the shop and he could butler the house, but he would never be an educated man. Or a patient one.

Cage gave her a knowing nod and got up. He went for the house and was gone all but two minutes before he sat back down beside her with new urgency in his gaze.

"Mama, I have another question for you."

"Shoot."

"You love mom, right?"

"'Course I do. You know that."

"And you'd do anythin' to make her happy, wouldn't you?"

Misty tilted her head and shot Cage a weird look. "Why do you ask that?"

Cage didn't answer, but instead continued: "Even if you don't understand why it makes her happy?"

"You know I'd do anythin' for her, Cage. What's you point?"

"My point is just marry her already."

Misty opened her mouth and closed it again. She hadn't been prepared to hear Cage say that. Zoe perhaps, but not her son. It seemed that over the years, she sometimes forgot how perceptive he was.

Misty and Cordelia had lived together in this house for sixteen years now. And the last twelve of those had gone by like a dream, Misty thought sometimes. Ever since Marie disappeared and Hank went away they had led lives of perfect serenity. Living moment to moment in a stretch of life that couldn't possibly have lasted more than a decade. Their ups and downs had been those of ordinary people, like where to send Cage to school and how to manage the startup troubles of Misty's new shop. How to integrate Kyle in their daily life – and getting Cordelia to trust him again – so to provide him some meaning as well. Occasionally fighting off Cordelia's demons. Misty realized that the whispers might not be a thing normal people struggled with, but then again, maybe it was. At some point during these years, their lives had shed the chaos and taken form of something healthy. Misty found that she loved that. Even if she couldn't bring herself to set foot in her old shack. The Goode mansion had finally become home.

Misty never needed more than that, but she knew there was another layer to normalcy for city people like Cordelia. She may not be the flustered, forest-frightened little girl she was when Misty met her, but she treasured the rules of society just as much now as always. Yes, there was one thing missing and while Cordelia never asked, she might still want it in secret.

Cage was talking through her thoughts: "…It's legal here now. It's 2015, no one's eyeing you weird anymore. It won't change anythin' for you, but it will for her. So I think you should do it. Just don't spend all my college money on it, please." The last he said with a wink. Misty loved it when he did that. It was the one thing that made him look more like her than Cordelia.

"You got your mother's smarts, you know that?"

The whole house had a sort of tension the night Misty made her move. It was quiet, because Cage was spending the night at a friend's – the spontaneous plan was so convenient that Misty was sure he had done it on purpose – and Zoe had taken Kyle to her place. They had the whole house to themselves. Misty hadn't thought she would be nervous at all, because this didn't change anything about their lives really, yet she felt a stirring in her stomach as she ascended the stairs that evening. She felt for the ring in the pocket of her dress, the small diamond ring that Cage had helped her pick out. She would have asked Zoe, but Zoe was terrible at keeping a straight face. Especially around Cordelia. Cage had a sort of cunning nature sometimes and he had kept a perfect poker face all day, despite being in on the whole secret from start to end. And the end was closing in.

Cordelia was already in bed, reading a book. Misty took a moment to stand in the doorway and gaze at her. The changes in Cordelia, the late blooming of emotional maturity as she sometimes called it, had been gradual over the years and now that she was in her early forties, she was confident as ever. Yet tonight, the little girl shone through. Perhaps it was just all the reminiscing Misty had done lately. Her hair was shorter again, the same length she had had it as a teenager, and she was just as beautiful as she was then.

Finally, Cordelia looked up from her book and her eyes found Misty's.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"A minute I guess. Just wanted to look at you."

Cordelia smiled and put the book down. She looked back at Misty and suddenly that stirring riled up. Misty realized she hadn't felt butterflies like this since they first got together. She thought herself silly, but she also cherished it. Her hand made a twitch towards her pocket, but she stopped it before she could give herself away.

"What's the matter, love? You look a little…" Cordelia trailed off, perhaps wanting to say that Misty looked tense or nervous, but founding that it wasn't quite true. It was more of a thrill and it must be all over Misty's face by now.

Misty smiled and walked over. Her steps weren't as light as a minute ago, the stirring of the butterflies took the bounce out of them. She sat down on the bed in front of Cordelia.

"Nothin's the matter, just gotta say somethin' to you." Now she couldn't keep the smile off her face, like a little kid bursting with secret, and she saw how the mounting worry dissipated from Cordelia's features.

Misty swallowed once and said: "Delia. There are some things that don't matter much to me. But just 'cause I don't understand 'em at first, don't mean they ain't important. And I love you. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, so…" Misty reached for her pocket, her eyes never leaving Cordelia's slightly confused face, and snatched up the ring. She drew it out, unfolded her hand and presented it to Cordelia. It took a moment for Cordelia to fully register it. She looked down and then her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out and Misty asked her the question: "Cordelia, will you marry me?"

When Cordelia looked up again, her face was painted in astonishment and tears were forming in her eyes. Her voice was breathless when she said:

"Are you… I never thought you would… Are you sure you want marriage? I know it never meant anything to you."

Misty smiled and something about it brought more tears to Cordelia's eyes. "I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Rings and papers don't make no difference to me. I can make the vow right here that I'll love you and protect you for as long as my soul exists. Don't need no church to do that, but you like normal. And I'll be just as happy married to you as I am now. So I wanna do it for you. So will you?"

Cordelia stared at her for just another wide-eyed second, before the tears took over and a mixed sound of a sob and breathless laughter ended it.

"Yes", Cordelia said. "God, yes, Misty." She stretched out her hand and Misty placed the ring on her finger. She felt the tremble of their hands and realized that some of it was herself. Then Cordelia pulled her in and kissed her, kissed her long and sweet and it some ways it felt just like the beginning.

When they came apart again, they both giggled like teenage girls and Misty felt the butterflies settle.

"I was nervous to say this", she confessed.

"Did you think I would ever turn you down?" The teasing tone of Cordelia's voice rang like music and the last of the tension disappeared.

"No. But I think this is the most normal thing I've ever done." Then they laughed again.

"There are going to be a few expenses here, but I think we can manage", Cordelia said after a while and Misty nodded.

"So maybe we don't invite the whole town. I don't need big either way, but you should decide what-"

"I don't a big wedding either", Cordelia agreed. "I just need you and our family. Perhaps a few colleagues. We have a big, lovely garden. It won't be too costly. All that matters is…" Cordelia trailed off again and looked at her new ring. The tears welled up in her eyes again and she looked up. "I love you more than anything. Thank you for giving me this."

Misty had no more words, so she just kissed her fiancé and thought about what she would look like in a white dress.

O0O

It was an early autumn wedding. Misty had picked it out, because she thought the garden would look the best when all the trees started blooming red and golden. And she was right, Cage thought. The two of them stood out against the blazing trees in their white dresses and it was a sight of a lifetime. Cage had never thought his mothers beautiful, it wasn't a notion on his mind – they were just Misty and Cordelia, his ma and mom – but now he realized that they were. They looked stunning, both of them. Simple dresses; Cordelia's a slim, formfitting one and Misty's loose one with embroidered flowers that matched the ring of leaves in her hair. Even though he hadn't known her then, Cage thought he was getting a look into what Misty must look like as a kid in the woods. Only cleaner perhaps.

Cage had been wedding manager since day one. He had helped them set it all up – in every sense of the phrase, as he made his ma propose in the first place – and he kept to the porch to keep an eye on everything. He liked being withdrawn from the crowd. It was a crowd he knew, but even so, he loved observing at a distance. Misty always said he got that from Cordelia, but he secretly knew he got that from both.

"Hey kid, how's everything coming together?" Hank, his father, approached him from the inside of the house, where he had gone to pick up a glass of water. He never drank alcohol, not even on occasions like this.

"Seems like it's all going well", he said, his eyes fixed on his mothers. "They look beautiful, don't they?"

"Yes. They do", Hank said with reluctance. Cage had been the one to ask if his father could be there. He saw the exchange of looks between Misty and Cordelia and knew what their non-verbal communication was about, but in the end Misty agreed. However fierce their fight might have been when Cage was little, it had ceased to cool politeness now. "Hey, thanks for inviting me, kid", Hank added. "Wasn't sure it was a good idea, honestly, but I'm glad I'm here to see it. This was meant to be. I hate to admit it, but it was."

"Misty's talkin' about adoptin' me, legally. Even though it's a bit late."

Hank eyed him with surprise. "Really? That's allowed? Well..." He shrugged and didn't say more to it. Instead Cage asked how things were in Boston and Hank filled him in. They talked as they watched Misty and Cordelia dance around in front of the band, laughing and hugging. They looked like two teenagers in love.

To the right, down the passage to the front yard, Cage heard a low distressed growling. He turned his head towards the sound and moments later, Kyle came tumbling into view. His speech had improved remarkably over the years, only when he was scared did regress to wordlessness.

Aunt Zoe and Cage saw this at the same time. Cage excused himself and went to Kyle, just as Zoe reached them.

"Kyle, baby, talk to me. What's happening?"

Kyle grunted and gestured, but no words came out. From the middle of the garden, the guests and the brides had shifted their attention, but Cage waved them off.

"We'll handle it!" He called and turned to Zoe again. She made a hard fist in the shoulder of Kyle's suit and forced him to meet her eyes.

"Use your words."

"Lav- Voodoo queen… _here_." He whined and hid his face against Zoe's shoulder.

Zoe and Cage stared at each other.

Cage saw the worry and the emerging of fear in Zoe's eyes. He had none in his own, none in his mind either. Only fuzzy memories of a screaming child and the terror in his mom's face. Rage from his ma. Perhaps there were fear there too, but all of this, it was fright in the periphery. He knew instantly that this was a woman who had managed to scare the living out of his entire family and Zoe's gaze only confirmed it. Yet he didn't feel frightened. Because she never hurt _him_.

"I'll go", he said.

Zoe's head snapped up. "Cage, _no_. She's dangerous! We should get Misty or-"

"No, don't you ruin this day for them. I'll call out if I need any help. Ma said she ain't dangerous anymore, so just stay here, and keep Kyle in check."

Cage turned on his heel and went, before Zoe could protest anymore. She might have run have after him, if it wasn't for Kyle needing her attention. Cage hadn't seen him this upset in a long time, perhaps not since those early memories he had, but couldn't quite recall. They were all imprints of feelings rather than pictures, but he would lie if he said the resurfacing of those feelings didn't make him uneasy. Still, he stood by his first impression; she had never wanted to hurt him.

He wasn't sure he would recognize her, but when he turned the corner and found her waiting by the front door, there was no mistaking. Mostly because of those feelings, the stirring sensation that he knew this woman, that he had shared important moments with this woman, however short and frightening their time together was.

But she was a shade of her former self. Her once beautiful, golden brown skin had turned a muddy grey, her eyes had lost the light and her posture had sunken into one of pain. Her body spoke of death even though she was still breathing.

Her eyes widened when she saw him. A defensive position, he hadn't noticed at first, loosened and her mouth dropped open. Her left eye grew blank with the beginning of tears.

"Cage Goode?" Her voice was thin and croaked, just like the rest of her.

"That's me."

"You have grown into a man. I'm glad. I wasn't expectin'... I thought the w- or the lady of the house would greet me."

The near-slip of the word _witch_ did not escape Cage. He knew what Marie Laveau thought of his ma. He also knew that Marie was half the war back when his grandma died, even if he had never gotten the details. The guilt on her face, the scars that probably originated back to that war, made him want to ask now, but that would be something for later. Now he wanted her gone.

"You'll have to deal with me. I don't want them knowin' you're here."

"You speak just like the Misty girl", she said. Her eyes flickered when she did and Cage found himself doubted whether she was entirely lucid.

"What do you want?" He asked, sternly but not unkindly.

That snapped her back into focus. Her posture straightened a little and while it sounded like it cost her dearly in energy she managed to sound demanding. "I want my boy. My Damian. I can't… I can't find him." The harshness went out of her voice again and the whine of an old woman took its place. "I've dug up every inch of the grounds now and I _can't_ … can't find him."

"That's 'cause he ain't buried there", Cage said. This much he was told. He had even been to the grave. Misty thought it important that someone visited the child. "Ma thought they were cursed lands, so we buried him somewhere else. I'll show you, if you keep quiet."

Marie nodded eagerly. "I'll do that. I don't wanna see 'em, if it can be avoided. I'll follow you."

Cage nodded and gestured for her to follow. Before they left the premise, he looked around the corner to where Zoe was still trying to talk Kyle down. She looked up and he nodded silently at her to let her know everything was okay. She didn't need to know more or she would prevent him from going.

They walked in silence then. Cage didn't need to think of the way; he knew the road to the swamps by heart. Marie followed him, side by side with him, so he could keep an eye on her. She might not have done him any injury, but he knew better than to trust her.

The close proximity made the sense of death about her stronger. It leaked of her like a thin wave and he knew he recognized the glow from somewhere.

"Are you sick, Marie?" He asked.

To his surprise, she nodded and confessed. "I am. After I lost my powers and my Damian, I went mad trying to get either back. Or mad _der_ , I realize now. Your family had taken my home, but they had not taken all of my materials. All I had left of my glory and former life was the potions I had not yet used. Most of them similar to those I used to wake that boy. You know about him, don't you? The boy who lives with your mothers?"

"You mean Kyle?"

"I don't remember his name, but he was blonde. He was the one to come find me just now."

"Yeah, that's Kyle. I know you got him back to life, somehow." Having been too little to understand, Cage still had trouble comprehending the lot of it, but he accepted it, because he could feel how different Kyle was. And suddenly he recognized the glow about Marie Laveau.

"Did you raise yourself from the dead?"

Marie laughed, a dry sound that was closer related to a cough than laughter. "I've never been physically dead and I doubt I could make me alive again if I was. But I used it in hopes I'd regain power. Instead it's made me sick. And now I'm too tired to keep takin' it. I just want my boy and be done."

"Were you going to kill my parents?" It rushed out of him, before he could stop to find a more tact for his question. Marie turned her grey face towards him for the first time.

"I don't know. That's my honest answer. The- Misty, yes, perhaps, because she scared me, but your other mama, no. She wasn't important to me. I'm sorry, Cage. I was blind with grief and rage. I'm not gonna tell you all the horrible things I did to you family. Let your mothers do that, if they wish it. Just know that I'm sorry you were hurt. In any way. I never wanted that."

They had reached the edge of the forest now and Cage lead Marie further into the tight growth. He didn't head for the shack or the riverside, but to a different part of the forest, which held no special meaning to Misty. That had been important to her as well. That way this spot could be Damian's alone.

Cage considered Marie's apology and then said: "I know. I remember you saved me once from Damian. You made sure your boy didn't hurt me. But why did you take me?"

"Because I thought you could help him." She was crying now. The tears were reluctant to fall, but they were in her voice. "You always knew magic in a way no other child ever did. You were special. I imagine you still are. I hoped you could be a good support for my Damian. But he was too…" She never got the last word out, but Cage understood fine. He wanted to berate her, tell her what a horrible thing that was and selfish too, but one look into her wrecked, dead face told him that it wouldn't matter. She knew and the best he could do was to forgive her. On behalf of his family. So he did.

"I don't know all that you did and I ain't sure I wanna know. But I forgive you. That's the best I can do. You just have to promise never to come back to the house. They are doing so well and that's the best they can do, I think. Okay?"

Marie nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Cage. You're very unique boy."

He didn't answer that, but stopped instead and pointed ahead. "It's right through there. Your boy's spot. I'll leave you alone with him and head back. Can you find your way out?"

"That don't matter none. Thank you."

Cage gave her a smile and then turned back, before Marie walked into the little clearing that was Damian Laveau's final resting place. It was a beautiful spot that Cage had always liked as a child, but he wouldn't visit today. Perhaps the grave would be gone the next time he came by, but that was Marie's choice.

When he returned to the wedding, his mother was waiting for him by the front door. She was still in her dress, but for the time being the celebration had left her. Cage cursed inwardly; he would say a curse out loud in front her.

"I'm guessin' you know everythin'?" He said with a cautious voice, not sure if he was in trouble or not.

"Zoe is terrible at keeping secrets", Cordelia said. "Are you okay?"

"Yes", he said and smiled at her. It undid some of the worry.

"You should have come to your mama or I."

He stepped up to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders. He was taller than her by now and it had made him feel protective of her, ever since he realized it. Misty said that was just how Cordelia made you feel. "You're right, in theory."

"In _theory_?" She repeated with an incredulous voice and a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, because I know it was your war, but I'm part of it too and I didn't want your day ruined. All she wanted was to see her son, so I took her there. Then I left. She did nothin' to me. She never hurt me before neither."

Cordelia looked like she wanted to say a load of things, but kept it in. Instead she sighed and put her hands around his neck. "You're a wonderful boy and you always believe the best in people. I wish I could do that. You've given her something none of us could have. I want to think she deserves that."

Cage didn't say anything, only accepted the confirmation of what he had thought just before. It made him glad he had provided Marie with some form of forgiveness.

"Perhaps someday, you can learn the whole story. If you want to."

"I'm not sure I do. How 'bout for now, we just enjoy you guys finally being married?" He gave her a wink and she smiled. It made her shine.

"Sounds like a good plan to me."

O0O

It became years before they finally told Cage the details of the war with Marie Laveau. By then Misty and Cage had both gone to find Damian's grave empty and the clearing deserted. No one ever saw the voodoo queen again. Cordelia didn't miss her, but she accepted that her mother's old enemy found a scrap of piece in the end. The whole story came out to Cage in the week leading up to his leaving for college. Cordelia had gone into the habit of bursting into tears at the thought of her boy leaving home and she finally cracked and told him part of the reason it was so hard to see him go. Even then it wasn't the whole story. She left out the part where she was in fight with Misty. Even all these years past, if hurt to admit it, but at the end of the line not all honesty serves to protect. He didn't need to know, she and Misty agreed. They sometimes revisited the memory, just the two of them, but by now it was just a dent in the long and crooked road of their relationship. It had shaped them both and made them stronger and it didn't need to mean more than that.

Every now and then, Cordelia would wander into the room that used to hold her son and was now only occupied for weeks at a time, when he came home for holidays. He had gone to New York to study and Cordelia missed him so much it broke her heart. When it was at its worst, she would go into Cage's room and cry. Then Misty would find her, wrap her arms around her and sing until the voices calmed and the yearnings for their son's return became bearable. Misty always missed him too, but she handled it better. She was always more in control of her own emotions, Cordelia often thought.

"I ain't worried, 'cause I know he'll return home once he's done. The Louisiana swamps are too temptin' for an aspirin' marine biologist." She always winked at Cordelia, when she said this, and it both calmed her and made her miss Cage even more.

A marine biologist he became, around the same time Cordelia became the school librarian in addition to her teaching. It was a few extra hours, but she enjoyed it. She had been offered the position of headmistress on one occasion and turned it down. She had never needed to rise to the top, something her mother would never have understood, but Misty did. And her son as well. She and Misty traveled to New York to see him on graduation day and Cordelia cried throughout the entire ceremony. She looked to her left to find Misty with wet eyes as well.

"Darling, are you crying?" Misty flinched ever so slightly at the mention, but turned her head with a smile.

"Sometimes I can't believe it, Delia. I can't believe we got all this way. I can't believe those two tiny girls who met in the swamp got to growin' up together and get married and now we're watchin' our baby boy finish college. And he said he's comin' home, didn't I tell you he would?"

Cordelia laughed with delight at the incredulity in Misty's voice, leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"I'm delighted your doubt is only surfacing now, love. Now that I no longer have enough for the both of us."

That made Misty laugh too and she cleaned up in time for Cage to come down and greet them.

"I can't wait to have you back, pup", Misty said on the way back to the airport days later. There was a strange tone of relief in her voice and it was the first time Cordelia realized her wife's constant reassurance of Cage's return was nothing but wishful thinking. It made her smile and she drove on without saying anything.

And life went by for Cordelia like the dream, just like Misty said it already had for her. It was moment to moment, full of life, but looking back, Cordelia realized that a dream was the only way to describe it. She was old and grey now, but there was light in her eyes yet. She thought back over her life, as she realized the dream-like harmony of it. The day Cage married his girlfriend of seven years. The day they had their sons. The hard winter when the roof broke in, where she and Misty had to live with Zoe and Kyle for a week. Even that period following the death of Misty's alligator, Nick. He lived a long life that one, 60 years thanks to Misty's healing hands, until he was killed by one of the younger ones at the lake. Misty said it was the way of nature, but she couldn't quite hide the heartbreak even so. Cage came and attended the funeral, cried almost as much as Misty. His wife and kids stayed home, and while that seemed an ignorant thing at first, Cordelia understood. They were city people from the heart of New Orleans and a dead alligator was not something they could ever feel a loss for. Cordelia herself attended the funeral, not because she had ever felt close to Nick, but because she understood the strange bond between him and her loved ones.

Misty had since accepted the passing of her old friend and with him gone, the guilt forcing her to visit her old clearing dissipated. She had since blessed many rescue animals with her love and came to work part time at an animal shelter, despite being far past the retiring age. Cordelia laughed at the memory of Misty, cocking her head to the side, throwing her a lopsided smile and saying: "Darling, you know city rules never applied to me." And she worked for free too, so no one bothered to tell her to go home and knit.

Cordelia breathed a sigh of inner peace and looked out her window. It was a clear day, almost cool by Louisiana standards and a lovely sight, but she was too tired to go outside. Her old bones ached now and she settled for the loving warmth of Misty's embrace.

The sigh had Misty looking down at her and a hand lifted to her heart.

"How're you feelin' today, darlin'?"

"I'm fine. I told you it was just a passing flu."

"Flu's ain't a good thing at your age, Delia. You didn't used to get them." Cordelia stretched up to kiss the worry off Misty's face.

"I know, love. But it's okay." In truth, she hadn't had any kind of illness in decades. Misty had fought off every evil before it could take root and had done so for ninety years now. The voices had silenced a couple of years ago too and Cordelia had heard nothing since. She knew it was for good this time and she didn't miss them.

"I don't know if I can keep fixin' you, darlin'. Nature always wins in the end." When Cordelia looked up again, the worry was right back in Misty's beautiful features. She was at the beginning of her own nineties, but she still didn't look a day over sixty. Just as Misty never got sick and could heal up any cut inflicted on her body, she aged slower than the rest of them. She almost looked younger than their son. She was a magical being, would always be. Cordelia had accepted that she would be here for many years after Cordelia herself passed on and in some way that gave her a sense of calm.

Cordelia took Misty's hand and squeezed it. "There's nothing left to fix, Misty. I'm good, love. You did everything and so much more."

"But I don't want to live forever without you."

"Cage is still here, live for him. He's a tiny boy version of me, remember?"

"He ain't so tiny no more. He's as tall as me. But he still looks like you." Misty gave her another crooked smile and the air became light again. Misty had somehow become the worrying one, while Cordelia felt strong, secure. They had years still and the realization made her suddenly want to get up and live them. She tucked at Misty's wrist and got up standing, with some support.

She gave Misty one look and Misty nodded. Their wordless connection had only gotten stronger through the years. It annoyed Cage to no end, but it filled Cordelia with love and that's what she told Misty, as she suggested they take a walk.

Misty nodded and answered with a gaze that said: I'll follow you anywhere.


End file.
